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FAREWELL AND OCCASIONAL 
ADDRESSES 

ELIY 



DELIVERED BY 
M 



Wi Hf MURRAY, ESQ., 



IN THE 



THEATRES ROYAL AND ADELPHI, 

EDINBURGH; 

WITH A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH. 



,! Hail to the Theatre ! -where genius' thoughts. 
Depicted on the stage's mimic world, 
Raise the rapt soul to their own standard high 
Of intellectual loveliness ! " 



EDINBURGH: 
JAMES G. BERTRAM & CO., PERIODICAL EMPORIUM, 

27 HANOVER STREET. 
MDCC'.'LI. 



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£3 



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EDINBURGH : 
PRINTED BY E. M. LAND & CO., ST JAMES SQUARE* 



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ADVEETISEMENT. 



•^ The Publishers, in putting forth this collected edition 
Vh of Mr Murray's "Farewell and Occasional Addresses," 
deem it necessary to state that they have done so with- 
out consulting or having any communication with that 
gentleman on the subject. 

The Publishers believe that this lfotle volume con- 
tains the whole of the Addresses which it is possible to 
procure — the files of all the Edinburgh newspapers 
having been carefully searched for the purpose of 
making the work as complete as possible. 

Various allusions in the Addresses would point to 
an earlier date for the commencement of these " tri- 
butes ;" but the Publishers infer that the very early ones 
were not " set speeches," but mere impromptus deli- 
vered on the spur of the moment in answer to the call 
of the audience ; and that, hence, they did not find 
their way into the columns of the newspapers. 

27 Hanover Street, 
1st October 1851. 



THE RISE AND PROGRESS 

OF THE 

THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 



The origin of plays in Edinburgh is involved in great obscurity, 
and the history of the drama in the metropolis of Scotland is 
one of fitful encouragement and meagre results ; the patronage 
of royalty being hardly sufficient, at one time, to protect it 
from the ignominious expulsion so ardently desired by the 
early reformers, who were loud in their denunciations against it. 
In the earlier stages of its history are to be found various 
notices of religious theatrical representations, performed princi- 
pally by parties of domestics, and originating evidently in the 
church. The first approach to regular dramatic composition 
after this period was Sir David Lindsay's " Pleasant Satyre of 
the Three Estatis," a piece, which, we are told by Charteris, 
was performed in 1544 before the Queen Regent, and which 
so far surpasses the efforts of contemporary English dramatists 
as to render the barrenness of the Scottish muse in this de- 
partment of literature afterwards the more apparent. James 
VI. was fond of this kind of amusement, and issued a mandate 
to his clergy to drop their censures of theatrical representa- 
tions, which at certain periods during his reign they used 
periodically to anathematize. The civil wars in the reign of 
Charles I., and the gloomy fanaticism which spread itself 
among the people, left neither leisure nor inclination for the 
intellectual amusements of the stage, and the striking changes 
that then occurred almost obliterated all trace of theatrical re- 
presentations until after the Restoration. In the early days of 
acting, the players were attached to the household of the King, 
A 



2 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

or his brother, the Duke of York. They also wore a kind of 
uniform or livery, and were termed respectively the King's or 
the Duke's servants, and in that character they were followers 
of the courts of the king, or of the duke, their master ; and 
in this situation we accordingly find a party of them at Holy- 
rood with the Duke of York in the year 1680, no doubt con- 
tributing greatly to the amusement of the court and the 
courtiers. 

The misfortunes attending the duke's journey on his return 
to England, the political fever of his reign, and the sullen 
bigotry into which that fever subsided in the time of his suc- 
cessor, once more dissipated so effectually all ideas of polite or 
rational amusement, that no return of the drama is to be 
traced in Scotland, even in the reign of Queen Anne, the 
Augustan age of her sister country ; and it was not until after 
the ferment excited by the Union, and the confusion attendant on 
the memorable rebellion of 1715 had subsided, that any stage- 
players thought of venturing a trial of fortune in the Modern 
Athens. 

The first of these was Signora Violante, an Italian posture 
mistress, celebrated for feats of strength, and whom Arnot 
describes as " a virago." She fitted up a temporary theatre at 
the bottom of Carrubber's Close, and collected a company of 
English comedians, who met with much encouragement from 
such portion of the inhabitants as were play-goers. For some 
years after this period, a company of strollers annually visited 
Edinburgh. From a certain quarter, however, they met with 
great opposition, the clergy having a most illiberal and violent 
animosity against the stage, the players, and the eloquence 
that 

" Stirs the blood and fires the brain." 

So lately as in the year 1727, the Magistrates and Presby- 
tery of Edinburgh endeavoured to expel the comedians from 
the boundaries of the city. However, notwithstanding the 
active fulminations of the clergy and magistrates, the players 
held their ground, and continued to act in the very teeth of 
their opposition. The itinerant companies who at this period 
visited the city, having been driven from their stronghold in 
Carrubber's Close, usually rented the Taylor's Hall in the Cow- 
gate, which they fitted up as a temporary theatre ; the prices 
of admission were, for the boxes and pit, 2s. 6d. ; and for the 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. O 

Gallery, Is. 6d. The clergy again assailed and preached 
against " the house of th'e Devil " more bitterly than ever, but 
it was not without its defenders ; and the Professors of the 
College, and several of the most respectable inhabitants, came 
forward to support the players thus persecuted into popularity. 
A spirit of party was thus engendered, which became of great 
benefit to the success of the " Theatre," and so great did the 
attendance become, that the Taylor's Hall was soon found to 
be insufficient to accommodate the numerous spectators. 

During this brief glimpse of prosperity the company differed 
among themselves ; and a factious performer having engaged 
in his party the late Mrs Ward, then in the bloom of her 
youth and beauty, attempted to ruin the manager of Taylor's 
Hall, by setting up a rival house. An area was pitched upon 
to the west of St John Street, Canongate, and the foundation- 
stone laid in August 1746, by Mr John Ryan of Covent Gar- 
den, an actor of distinguished merit. No sooner were the 
doors opened, than the Taylor's Hall was deserted, and the 
manager ruined. The success of the new house was for one 
season greatly enhanced by the following circumstance : — One 
Robert Drummond, a printer, had been sentenced by the 
magistrates to be pilloried, and banished the city for a twelve- 
month, for printing a defamatory poem, or libel, reflecting upon 
the Duke of Cumberland, and certain zealous Whigs. His 
printing-house being shut up, and his journeymen and appren- 
tices set idle in consequence of the sentence, it was contrived 
that the pastoral comedy of the Gentle Shepherd should be 
acted by these journeymen and apprentices for the behoof of 
their distressed master. As the sentence against Drummond 
was deemed rigorous, and as it had become a party affair, the 
scheme of a play was wonderfully relished, and the play repeatedly 
performed before such crowded houses, that it was found 
necessary to erect occasional galleries over the stage for the 
convenience of spectators. 

The Canongate Theatre, under the management of Mr Lee, 
soon began to get into difficulties, with which the manager 
contrived to struggle for a considerable period, bringing down 
various performers of merit from London, in order, if possible, 
to get the theatre out of debt. This method, however, only 
added to his liabilities, and the theatre speedily changed hands. 
Some of the members of the College of Justice having been 



4: THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

security for Mr Lee's debts, the property fell into their hands, 
and they appointing a Mr James Callender, merchant in 
Edinburgh, to act for them, the celebrated actor Digges, who 
was then at Dublin, was engaged as stage-manager. Lee, of 
course, complained heavily of these proceedings. He insisted 
that the conveyance granted by him was merely a mode of se- 
curity, not a deed of sale : that he had been imposed upon 
as to the form of the writ, and taken advantage of in the price 
for the subject, which was no more than L.500, while the 
property was truly worth L.1700. To obtain redress of his 
grievances, Mr Lee brought an action before the Court of Ses- 
sion, and a party was formed to oppose the new managers. 
After two or three pleadings the action was dropped, and Mr 
Digges' figure and address defeated the opposition. 

After the Rebellion of 1745, the dmded spectators' frequently' 
displayed in the theatre a spirit of political dissention. Upon 
the anniversary of the battle of Culloden, 1749, this animosity 
rose to a height which threatened consequences of a serious 
nature. Certain military gentlemen who were in the play- 
house called out to the band of music to play Culloden.* 
This was regarded by the audience as ungenerously and in- 
solently upbraiding the country with her misfortunes. Re- 
senting it, accordingly, they ordered the band to play, You're 
welcome, Charles Stuart, f The musicians complying, in- 
stantly a number of officers attacked the orchestra with drawn 
swords, and leaped upon the stage. Among them was the 
son of a chieftian, who had drawn the Pretender on to his rash 
attempt, by offering to join him with his clan, and who, upon 
the Prince's landing, raised his clan, it is true ; but, instead of 
fulfilling his engagements, joined the royal army. This young 
gentleman, leaping upon the stage, to display the zealousness 
of his loyalty, slipped his foot, and fell flat upon the stage. 
The spectators being tickled with the circumstance, an im- 
mense peal of laughter burst through the house, which exas- 
perated the indignation of the officers: Meantime, fiddle- 
sticks being unable to cope with polished steel, the musicians 
fled ; but the military were not long able to remain masters of 
the field. They were assailed from the galleries with apples, 

* A tune composed in order to keep up the remembrance of the 
bloody defeat of an unfortunate party, 
t A song of the Jacobite party. 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. O 

snuff-boxes, broken forms, in short, with everything missile 
that could be laid hold of. The officers at once consulted 
their safety, and went in quest of revenge by quitting the stage, 
in order to attack the galleries, which they stormed, sword in 
hand. The inhabitants of these upper regions defended them- 
selves from the fury of the soldiers by barricading their doors. 
The Highland chairmen, learning the nature of the quarrel, 
with their poles, attacked the officers in the rear, who, being 
neither able to advance nor retreat, were obliged to surrender 
at discretion, leaving the chairmen masters of the field. 
Luckily, no misfortune of any consequence happened in this 
fray ; and to prevent similar disturbances, bills were next day 
pasted up, wherein it was notified, in large rubrics, that, for 
the future, the band of music was not to play any tunes at 
the desire of the audience, but select pieces appointed by the 
managers. 

The production of the Rev. John Home's tragedy of Douglas 
was a great event in the history of the Theatre in Edinburgh. 
After the Presbyterian clergy had railed against the stage for 
upwards of a century and a half, it was a matter of no small 
mortification to them to behold a play written by one of their 
own order, acted in presence of several of their number, and 
received with universal applause. The tragedy was first per- 
formed in Edinburgh on the 14th December 1756. It was 
acted, for successive nights, before persons of all ranks and 
professions, and had a run unprecedented in the annals of any 
theatrical piece exhibited in Scotland. The presbytery at once 
took the alarm. They called before them such ministers 
within their district as had witnessed the performance of the 
play, and passed upon them a sentence of temporal suspension 
from the pastoral office. They, at the same time, wrote cir- 
cular letters to those presbyteries in which any clergyman 
belonging to them had been present at the theatre, recom- 
mending rigorous proceedings against them. They went about 
to misrepresent the conduct of a certain clergyman, while in 
the play-house, interpreting into riotous behaviour a conduct 
that was, in all respects, manly, honourable, and decent. With 
regard to the play itself, they attacked it on account of its 
pretended irreligious and immoral tendency, alleging, in sup- 
port of their charge, that there were certain impious invoca- 
tions, or mock pravers, in it, and an expression of horrid swear- 
2a 



U THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

ing ; besides that it encouraged suicide, and generally advanc- 
ing all the cant and bigotted arguments usually put forth on 
such occasions. As to the author, he was cited to appear be- 
fore his own presbytery, to answer the libel brought against 
him. But the poet, foreseeing the disagreeableness of his 
situation, and, perhaps, having no violent attachment to his 
profession, declined an appearance before his brethren, at the 
expense of resigning his pastoral charge. With respect to 
their flock, the presbytery drew up an act and exhortation, 
which was read from all the pulpits, and afterwards made its 
appearance in some periodical publications. In this address, 
the presbytery, after making the hackneyed complaint of the 
growth of immorality and irreligion, set forth, either from in- 
voluntary ignorance, or with deliberate falsehood, that the 
Christian had, in all ages, condemned dramatic representa- 
tions — a circumstance not worth commenting on in this en- 
lightened age, when all classes of the people have a proper ap- 
preciation of the elevating tendency which characterises the 
labours of the dramatist. 

One of the greatest riots, with the exception of the celebra- 
ted 0. P. Row, ever seen in a theatre, took place in that of 
Edinburgh, on the occasion of the production of High Life 
below Stairs. Although it is the province of the stage to lash 
the vices, and ridicule the follies of people in all ranks, yet, 
when this piece was brought out in Edinburgh, the footmen, 
taking it in high dudgeon that a farce reflecting on their 
fraternity should be exhibited, resolved that it should be 
no more performed. Accordingly, upon the second night of 
its being announced in the bills as a part of the entertainment, 
Mr Love, one of the managers, came upon the stage, and read 
a letter, containing the most violent threatenings, both against 
the actors and the house, in case the piece should be repre- 
sented, declaring that above seventy people had agreed to 
sacrifice favour, honour, and profit to prevent it. Notwith- 
standing this fulmination, the performances were ordered to go 
on. That servants might not be kept in the cold, nor induced to 
tipple in adjacent ale-houses, while they waited for their 
masters, the humanity of the gentry had provided that the 
upper-gallery should afford gratis admission to the servants of 
such persons as were attending the theatre. Yet these specta- 
tors, who were admitted, as it were, for nothing, presumed to 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 7 

forbid the entertainment of their masters, because it exposed 
their own glaring vices. The farce was no sooner begun than 
the combined footmen commenced a vigorous opposition. It 
was in vain that their masters commanded them to be silent, 
Their opposition only seemed to feed the flame, and although the 
gentlemen in the boxes were quite able to recognise each his 
own servant, and to call him to account, it was not till after a 
vigorous battle, in which the servants were completely over- 
powered by their masters, and then thrust out of their gallery 
for ever, that peace was restored, and the play, which has ever 
since been a favourite in Edinburgh, allowed to proceed with 
the usual regularity and quietness. 

•The extension of Edinburgh by the projection of the New 
Town soon rendered the old part of the city an unfavourable 
spot for the prosperity of the theatre, and, in accordance with 
the advancing spirit of the times, a royal patent was secured 
for a house to be built in the modern part of the city. The 
first holder of the patent was a Mr Ross, at that time a 
" principal performer " at Covent Garden, who secured this 
privilege by paying off some old debts, amounting to £1100, 
incurred by the gentlemen who had formerly taken an interest 
in " the old town concern," who in this manner were very glad 
to get out of a pecuniary scrape into which their fondness for 
theatrical amusements had unwarily drawn them. 

Mr Ross, being in possession of the patent,, set about the 
erection of a suitable building, which, it is scarcely necessary 
to say, is the present barn-like edifice, which produces the 
double effect of disgusting spectators by its own deformity, 
and obstructing the view of one of the finest buildings in the 
empire. Mr Ross being, like a great many of the members of 
his profession, a poor man, had some difficulty in the devising 
ways and means of raising money to defray the expense of the 
proposed edifice. The mode ultimately resorted to was a pro- 
position to raise .£2500 in so many shares of £100 each, 
security being given on the building, the patent, the wardrobe, 
scenery, machinery, &c, &c. Each share was to pay three 
per cent, of interest to the holder, besides giving a privilege of 
free admission upon all occasions of the building being open. 
The building was commenced in 1768, and the house was 
opened in December 1 769, at a total expense of about £5000. 
The prices of admission were — three shillings to the pit and 



THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

boxes, two shillings to the lower gallery, and one shilling to 
the upper one. At these rates the house held about £140 
sterling, being nearly double the sum which the Canongate 
theatre held. 

The falling of the North Bridge was a great blow to the 
theatre. At one fell swoop it cut off the best communication 
between the populous districts of old Edinburgh and the, at 
that time, scantily populated New Town, containing the 
temple of the drama. The indifference of the company, too, 
gave little inducement to people to put themselves out of the 
way to visit a house of entertainment so difficult of access. 
The manager exclaimed loudly, in his own defence, that good 
actors, in consequence of the fall of the bridge, would not 
engage with him. Be that as it may, however, his campaign 
was a very unsuccessful one. We suspect he trusted too much 
to the novelty of the mere building, and neglected the one 
grand and first requisite of success as a theatrical manager — 
the gathering together of a first-rate company. 

The theatre was now a legalised entertainment in Edin- 
burgh. It was only, however, in December 1767, that the 
establishment was placed under the protection of the law, and 
on that occasion a prologue, suited to the occasion, was de- 
livered by Mr Ross, in which the royal grant was thus 
noticed: — 

11 This night lov'd George's free enlightened age 

Bids royal favour shield the Scottish stage. 

His Royal favour ev'ry bosom cheers ; 

The drama now with dignity appears." 

Mr Ross soon tired of his managerial cares ; and, in a fit of 
disgust and disappointment, he let the theatre for three years 
to Mr Foote. That gentleman engaged a first-rate company, 
and the result was, that, after paying all expenses, he was the 
gainer at the end of the season of a clear £1000. But, Foote 
having concerns of more importance in London, to which it 
was necessary he should devote his whole attention, speedily 
retired from the management, and gave over his lease to Messrs 
Digges and Bland, who had possession of it for some years. 
It was afterwards rented by Mr Corrie, then by Mr Wilkinson, 
and afterwards by Mr John Jackson, the historian of the 
Scottish stage. 

This gentleman got possession on November 10, 1781. He 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. U 

put the house into a thorough state of repair, furnished it 
anew with scenery, ornaments, properties, and wardrobe. His 
resident company of performers was also first-rate, and, under 
his management, the citizens had the gratification of seeing 
Mrs Siddons, Mrs Jordan, and the other unrivalled artistes 
of the day. As a contrast to the grandiloquent managerial 
puffs of the present time we take the liberty of giving Mr 
Jackson's address: — 

" TO THE PUBLIC. 

" I do myself the honour of seizing the earliest opportunity 
of informing the ladies and gentlemen of the city of Edinburgh 
that the superintendence of the Theatre- Royal has at length fallen 
to my lot. The task is always arduous, and in the present in- 
stance rendered still more difficult from the shortness of the 
time allowed me for the necessary preparations for the season, 
my agreement with Mr Ross for the purchase of the theatre 
not having been concluded till the 10th of the present month. 
Even with this additional inconvenience, I embrace the situa- 
tion with pleasure. Naturalised, as it were, by inclination 
and a long residence in Scotland, I cannot help looking for- 
ward with a glow of satisfaction on an appointment which 
flatters me with a pleasing expectation of passing the latter 
part of my life in a country, for which, from my earliest 
years, I have ever entertained the strongest attachment. The 
difficulties I must necessarily at present encounter, shall ba 
combated by an unremitted perseverance. As a servant of the 
public, I shall think myself bound, on all occasions, to make 
my opinion subservient to their wishes. A predilection to 
representations that exhibit those moral principles that the 
stage was intended to promote, and a constant endeavour to 
procure the most capital performers that can be had, to fill the 
various characters, shall claim my first attention in the ap- 
pointment of every theatrical exhibition," &c , &c. 

" John Jackson." 

Although our space is much limited at present, it would be 
unpardonable were we to overlook the first appearance of Mrs 
Siddon's on the stage of Edinburgh. The admirable perfor- 
mances of this gifted woman had drawn upon her the admira- 
tion of all classes of the people, both in England and Ireland. 
It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that the learned savans 
of the capital of Scotland were longing to behold this wonder- 



10 THE RISE AND PROGRE3S OF 

ful goddess of tragedy. For the purpose of inducing her to 
visit Edinburgh, a committee of noblemen and gentlemen 
made up a purse of the value of £200 to be presented to 
her, as an addition to what was agreed upon by Mr Jackson. 
The following is the supposed result, in a pecuniary view, of 
this first visit to Edinburgh : — 

Half of the house (deducting expenses) 

for nine nights £467 7 7 

Committee's purse 200 

Benefit, at raised prices 180 0.0 

Presents, plate, gold — tickets, &c, &c. 120 

Making a total sum of £967 7 7 

which was looked upon, at that time, as something quite 
enormous. 

The sensation produced in Edinburgh by Mrs Siddon's first 
visit was tremendous, and the crowds that assembled on the 
occasion have never since been equalled. It is a well-known 
fact that porters slept on the street on bundles of straw, in 
order to be close to the box-office on its being opened for the 
disposal of places, and thus have an opportunity of securing 
tickets for their employers. On the first evening of perfor- 
mance, immense crowds beseiged the doors to take their chance 
of gaining admittance, and, we believe, the line of carriages 
engaged in setting down the box company extended half-way 
along Princes Street. On the first evening of her performing, 
the house was densely packed — every available corner from 
which a glimpse of the stage could be seen, or a word from 
the performer be heard, being occupied. When the lady 
entered in view of the audience, a silence deep as death was 
her only welcome. This continued for some time, until at last 
one individual in the gallery became roused by the almost super- 
human grandeur of the acting, gave vent to his admiration, by 
exclaiming at the conclusion of one of her well-known bursts of 
passionate feeling — "that's no bad though. ' ? This homely 
exclamation, acting as a charm, at once dissolved the lethargy 
of the audience, and peal upon peal of applause reverberated 
through the house, acting, no doubt, as a great charm to the 
almost wounded feelings of the great actress, who always declared 
that there was nothing so necessary to the actor or actress as 
the applause of the audience, which served to give them a brief 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 11 

respite of breathing time, to recruit their lost strength, and 
recover their wonted energies. 

Most of the great performers of the day were engaged by 
Mr Jackson. Among others, Mrs Jordan, Mr Pope and Mrs 
Pope, Mrs Kennedy, " the celebrated singer," Mr Lee Lewes, 
Mr Fennell, Mrs Percy, Mr King, Miss Farren, Miss Kemble, 
Mr John Kemble, and many more whom we have not space to 
enumerate. It may be interesting to our readers if we present 
them with some idea of the financial state of the theatre dur- 
ing Mr Jackson's management. Thus in 1789, the income 
amounted to - - - - £5180 5 

While the expenditure was 4454 1 5 

Leaving a profit of £726 3 7 

In 1790, the income is stated at - £5275 8 6 
The expenses are reckoned at - 5297 111 



Leaving in that year a loss of £21 13 5 
The weekly expenses to performers amounted, in 1790, to 
£100, 3s. ; and the sum put down for lights, music, servants, 
gas, &c, &c, is £60, 5s. Mr Jackson also, paid out a great 
many large sums for repairs, painting, scenery, machinery, &c, 
in order to make the house as complete and perfect as possible. 
Towards the end of his period of management, it would seem 
that Mr Jackson had got into difficulties, and it was resolved 
that Mr Stephen Kemble, the eminent provincial manager, 
should be associated in the management, on the condition of 
paying a rent of £1300, and giving Mr Jackson half the profits. 
Mr Kemble, at the same time, to have a salary for his services 
as manager. 

The following is a list of the permanent company engaged 
by Mr Foote in 1771 :— 

Mr Foote, Mr Robson, 

... Woodward, ... Miller, 

... Weston, ... Waker, 

... Sowdon, ... Bain, 

... Jackson, ... Knowles, 

... Vendermore, ... Vowell, 

... Lancashire, ... Farrel, 

... Didier, ... Dancer, 



12 



THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 



Mr Gentleman, 


Mr Maurell, 


... Fearon, 


... Collins, 


Mrs Baker, 


Mrs Waker, 


... Jackson 


... Fearon, 


... Jewel, 


... Farrel, 


... Didier, 


... Collins. 


st of the company performing 


in Edinburgh in 1790 u 


Mr King, 


Mr Hallion, 


... Pope, 


... Bell, 


... Wilson, 


... Bland, senior, 


... Wood, 


... Bland, junior, 


... Lamash, 


... J. Bland, 


... Moss, 


... Charteris, 


... Williamson, 


... Charteris, junior, 


... Archer, 


... Sparks, 


... Taylor, 


... Woodroffe, 


... Lowe, 


... Bonville, 


... Mapples, 


... Mountfort. 


... Jackson, 




Mrs Esten, 


Mrs Lowe, 


... Barresforde, 


... Clarke, 


... Taylor, 


... Charteris, 


... W. Wells, 


... Archer, 


... Sparks, 


... Mountfort, 


... Woods, 


... Bland, 


... Jackson, 


Miss Fontenelle. 



After the agreement between Jackson and Kemble had ex- 
pired, the latter gentleman resolved upon commencing a new 
establishment solely on his own account. With this view, he 
fitted up the Circus, and engaged the following ladies and 
gentlemen as members of the new theatre : — 
Mr Kemble, Mr Edwin, 

... Lee Lewes, ... Bell, 

... Woods, ... Sparks, 

... Archer, ... Whitmore, 

... Swendal, ... Moreton, 

... Fox, ... Clark, 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 13 

Mr C. Kemble, Mr Ruberry, 

... Siddons, junior, ... Crew. 

... Price, 



Mrs Kemble, Mrs Walcott, 

... Lee Lewes, ... Edwin, 

... Woods, Miss Ross, 

... Ruberry, ... Satchell. 

Kemble opened on-the 21st January 1793 ; Jackson's friends, 
of course, went to law in defence of his patent. The Lord 
Ordinary interdicted Kemble, and he reclaimed against the in- 
terdict, but the Lords determined against the New Theatre, 
and "by this decree," says Jackson, " the Theatre-Royal was 
established in its natural and ancient privileges, and once more 
opened with the fulness of its powers-" 

Having alluded to Stephen Kemble's attempt to convert 
the Circus into a Theatre, we may mention that that building 
is now the Adelphi. The successive revolutions which have 
happened to this unfortunate house deserve to be remarked. 
After it was relinquished by Kemble, it was made into a place 
of worship. It was then fitted up by Mr Corri as a Ball and 
Concert Room, and again transformed into a Theatre in 1810 ; 
and after again being transformed into a Ball Room, was, in 
1817, restored to its original destination, under the title of the 
Pantheon. In this state it continued till 1822, when it was 
fitted up as the Caledonian Theatre, for the performance of 
pieces not protected by the patent of the larger house. It 
has been successively occupied by a great number of manager?, 
including Mr Ryder, Mr Alexander, Messrs Murray, Yates, &c, 
and, ouce again, the scene is to change, Mr Wyndham having 
become lessee, in opposition to Lloyd at the Theatre-Royal, 
and, from the host of friends by whom he is to be supported, 
it is expected that he will make a hit as a manager. 



We come now to the more modern part of our subject, and 
with this division of our history it becomes necessary to intro- 
duce Mr W. H. Murray. This gentleman is the son of a Mr 
Murray, who, during the latter part of last century, was es- 
teemed an excellent actor, and his grandfather was Sir John 
B 



14: THE RISE AND PROGRESS OP 

Murray of Broughton, secretary to Prince Charles during the 
Rebellion of 1745. When quite a child, Mr Murray, we believe, 
made his first appearance on the stage as Puck, at the Theatre 
Royal, Bath, then, along with the other theatres of the circuit, 
under the management of his father. At Drury Lane, under 
that great master of his art, the illustrious John Kemble, Mr 
Murray was intrusted with what is technically termed " little 
business," that is, he played some of the minor characters in 
the plays which that gentleman produced, and it is said that 
the first part he played at Old Drury, was a very short one in- 
deed, consisting merely of the words — 

" My Lords, — The King comes." 

This "line of business" continued for a few years, and we then 
find Mr Murray a member of the Caledonian Theatre in " our 
own romantic town." In Edinburgh, at first, he was no 
favourite, and, night after night, he was hissed and laughed at, 
but nil desperandum was evidently his motto. His industry 
was untiring ; he took great pains with whatever part he was 
intrusted, and this soon worked a change on his audience, as 
we shall speedily see. 

In 1809 the patent of the Theatre-Royal passed into the 
hands of Mr H. Siddons, the enormous sum of £42,000 being 
paid for it. Mr Siddons' company now removed from the 
New Theatre at the head of Leith Walk, and took up their 
quarters in Shakespeare Square. Here a new era dawned on 
Mr Murray — he became a decided favourite, and, instead of the 
harsh disagreeeble sounds which used to greet him on his en- 
trance, caps, hands, and tongues " applaud him to the very 
echo, which does applaud again." He now also became 
amalgamated with the citizens, joined in their sports and pas- 
times, was made a Free-mason — became one of the Volun- 
teers — formed associates — mixed with the gay— collected troops 
of friends around him, and, in short, became " one of us." The 
characters which were barely tolerated at the other house, were 
now received with the greatest delight. His Flutter, Osrick, 
Mock Duke, &c, were " palpable hits," and he was now looked 
upon as likely to become one of the brightest actors of his 
day. 

While Murray was thus rapidly achieving laurels and rising 
into fame, poor Siddons was fast sinking into the grave. 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 15 

Everything had been done that could be done for the existence 
of the drama in Edinburgh, but all would not do. New piece 
after new piece was written and brought out ; stars were 
brought down by wholesale. John Kemble, Harry Johnston, 
John Bannister, Braham, Incledon, Jack Johnston, Emery, 
Mathews — Mrs Siddons, Miss Smith, Mrs C. Kemble, Miss S. 
Booth, &c. &c. ; but with all this host of talent, poor Siddons 
found himself daily on the decline — Dundee turned out a bad 
speculation ; Perth was little better ; nothing could keep his 
head above water : his health, which had long been in a pre- 
carious state, received the last sad shock, and in 1815, he 
bade adieu to this world and all its vanities, leaving the Theatre 
greatly involved, and a wife and four children to be supported 
from it. 

The whole weight of the management now devolved on Mr 
Murray, for the behoof of his sister and her children ; and it 
could not have fallen into better hands ; his thorough know- 
ledge of theatricals, his steady, cool, collected judgment, com- 
plete tact, and excellent address, soon made things take a turn. 
Previous to Mr Siddons' death, the management had been in- 
duced to lower the prices of admission to the boxes from five 
shillings to four, but after the death of Mr Siddons, Murray 
made an appeal to the public on behalf of the orphans of the 
deceased, and the great difficulties the concern had been left 
in, and raised the prices of admission to the boxes again to five 
shillings without one dissenting voice ; and much we wish that 
he had never lowered them again. It was a politic measure to 
reduce the pit and gallery prices, but we feel quite certain that 
a shilling more or less would not have made the slightest dif- 
ference in the attendance of the frequenters of the boxes, while 
it has made a very considerable deficit in the night's receipts. 

In 1816, Murray engaged the celebrated Edmund Kean, 
who proved a most profitable star, great houses being every 
night the result of his engagement. Miss O'Neil was also a 
great source of profit to the Theatre, her appearance in Edin- 
burgh causing quite a sensation among all classes of play-goers, 
both high and low. Another card in favour of Mr Murray 
was John Kemble's last professional visit to Edinburgh in 
1817, when he acted over all his great characters, with all the 
spirit of his best years. Sir Walter Scott said, " We lose in 
him a most excellent critic, an accomplished scholar, and one 



1(5 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

who graced our forlorn drama with what little it has left of 
good sense and gentleman-like feeling." Mr Kemble's farewell 
character was Macbeth, and previous to the rising of the cur- 
tain, he said in the green-room, that "he was determined to 
leave behind him the most perfect specimen of his art he had 
ever shown," and in this he fully succeeded. A few days 
afterwards he was entertained at a public dinner by his Edin- 
burgh admirers. The following address, which he spoke on his 
farewell night, was written for him by Sir Walter Scott : — 
"As the worn war-horse, at the trumpet's sound, 

Erects his mane, and neighs, and paws the ground — 

Disdains the ease his generous lord assigns, 

And longs to rush on the embattled lines, 

So I, your plaudits ringing on mine ear, 

Can scarce sustain to think our parting near ; 

To think my scenic hour for ever past, 

And that these valued plaudits are my last. 

Why should we part, while still some powers remain, 

That in your service strive not yet in vain ? 

Cannot high zeal the strength of youth supply, 

And sense of duty fire the fading eye ; 

And all the wrongs of age remain subdued 

Beneath the burning glow of gratitude ? 

Ah, no ! the taper, wearing to its close, 

Oft for a space in fitful lustre glows ; 

But all too soon the transient gleam is past, 

It cannot be renew'd, and will not last ; 

Even duty, zeal, and gratitude, can wage 

But short-lived conflict with the frosts of age. 

Yes ! It were poor, remembering what I was, 

To live a pensioner on your applause, 

To drain the dregs of your endurance dry, 

And take, as alms, the praise I once could buy ; 

Till every sneering youth around enquires, 

" Is this the man who once could please our sites T 

And scorn assumes compassion's doubtful mien, 

To warn me off from the encumber'd scene. 

This must not be;— and higher duties crave, 

Some space between the theatre and the grave, 

That, like the Roman in the Capitol, 

I may adjust my mantle ere I fall : 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH, J / 

My life's brief act in public service flown, 
The last, the closing scene, must be my own. 

M Here, then, adieu ! while yet some well-graced parts 
May fix an ancient favourite in your hearts, 
Not quite to be forgotten, even when 
You look on other actors, younger men : 
And if your bosoms own this kindly debt 
Of old remembrance, how shall mine forget — 
0, how forget ! — how oft I hither came 
In anxious hope, how oft return'd with fame ! 
How oft around your circle this weak hand 
Has waved immortal Shakespeare's magic wand, 
Till the full burst of inspiration came, 
And I have felt, and you have fann'd the flame ! 
By mem'ry treasured, while her reign endures, 
Those hours must live — and all their charms are yours. 

" favour'd Land ! renown'd for arts and arms, 
For manly talent, and for female charms, 
Could this full bosom prompt the sinking line, 
What fervent benedictions now were thine ! 
But my last part is play'd, my knell is rung, 
When e'en your praise falls faltering from my tongue ; 
And all that you can hear, or 1 can tell, 
Is — Friends and Patrons, hail, and fare you well." * 

The Edinburgh Theatre at this period was worth a visit. 
Sir Walter Scott who gave the tone to the literary society for 
which Edinburgh is so famed, often led his friends to Shake- 
speare Square, to be amused with the drolleries of Will Murray. 
Kogg, J. G. Lockhart, Professor Wilson, and the Ballantynes, 
and many other critics whose words were law to both author 
and actor, nightly graced the house. Sir Walter had a warm 

* " Mr Kemble delivered these lines with exquisite beauty, and with 
an effect that was evidenced by the tears and sobs of many of the 
audience. His own emotions were very conspicuous. When his fare- 
well was closed, he lingered long on the stage, as if unable to retire. 
The house again stood up, and cheered him with the waving of hats 
and long shouts of applause. At length, he finally retired, and, in so 
far as regards Scotland, the curtain dropped upon his professional life 
for ever." — The Sale Room, 

2 B 



13 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

and affectionate feeling to Mr Murray, and has often spoken of 
him with great kindness and regard. The Ballantynes, both 
John and James, were excellent critics, and they undoubtedly 
exercised a considerable degree of influence on Theatrical matters 
in Edinburgh. Mr John Ballantyne, in particular, took a warm 
personal interest in the success of the Theatre under Mr Murray, 
and was the friend and adviser of many an actor who has since 
risen to affluence. The inimitable Malhew's was indebted to 
him for some of his best stories, and for many hints as to his 
entertainments, and, in fact, " whatever actor or singer of emi- 
nence visited Edinburgh of the evenings when he did not perform, 
several were sure to be reserved for Trinity, (Mr John JBallan- 
tyne's Villa). Here Braham quavered, and here Liston drolled 
his best — here Johnstone and Murray and Yates mixed jest 
and stave — here Kean revelled and rioted— and here the Romar 
Kemble often played the Greek, from sunset to dawn. Noa 
did the popular cantatrice or danseuse of the time disdain t< 
freshen her roses after a laborious week amidst these Paphiai- 
arbours of Harmony Hall." 

But let us return to the Theatre. The great salvation of 
the concern was the never-to-be-forgotten Rob Roy, which 
brought to the treasury a sum of £3000, and which has been 
played about 300 times in the Edinburgh Theatre-Royal since 
its first production. So great was the sensation excited by it, 
that long after the run of the piece was over, and a few bad 
houses intervening, Rob Roy would draw a £60 house at any 
time. 

While on this subject, we may here introduce an extract 
from a capital article on the Waverley Dramas, which appeared 
in a recent No. of the Dublin University Magazine, and which, 
we have no doubt, is the production of Mr Calcraft: — 

" While the dramas from the Waverley Novels pleased every- 
where, and drew money to the managers throughout the king- 
dom, in Scotland, as was likely, they found their strongest hold. 
Rob Roy was produced in Edinburgh with great care in 
February 1819 : and ran for forty-one nights without intermis- 
sion. It was admirably acted throughout, and introduced to 
that most critical audience a performer who has never been 
equalled in his particular line — Charles Mackay. His Bailie 
Jarvie was not acting, it was nature, the man personified in 
living identity, as if he had sat for the picture, and the author 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. Id 

had held him in his eye while drawing it. Liston was the 
admired of the Londoners, and an admirable artist too. His 
humour was peculiarly his own, and his Dominie Sampson wa3 
irresistible; but Mackay was the Bailie of Sir Walter Scott, as 
he himself often most emphatically declared. Perhaps the 
highest compliment ever paid to an actor was when the Great 
Unknown, at the dinner of the Edinburgh Theatrical Fund, 
threw aside his useless incognito, publicly owned himself the 
author of the works long believed to be his, and proposed the 
health of Mackay, in his character of the Bailie, in the follow- 
ing terms : — ' I would fain dedicate a bumper to the health of 
one who has represented several of those characters of which I 
have endeavoured to give the skeleton, with a truth and liveli- 
ness for which I may well be grateful. I beg leave to propose 
the health of my friend Bailie Nicol Jarvie ; and I am sure 
when the author of Waverley and Rob Roy drinks to Nicol 
Jarvie, it will be received with the just applause to which that 
gentleman has always been accustomed.' The talents of 
Mackay were by no means confined to his representation of 
exclusively national characters. In Dominie Samj^son, Caddie 
Heading, Caleb Balderstone, Dalgetty, Richie Moniplies, Jock 
Hoivieson, &c, &c, he was far beyond any of his contemporaries, 
and, in a large range of miscellaneous parts, equal to many in 
the foremost rank. I have seen him play Rolamo, in Clari, 
Old Dornton in The Road to Ruin, and others of that cast, 
with a power and pathos which everybody acknowledged. I 
feel happy at an opportunity of bearing my feeble testimony to 
the merits of an old friend and confederate ; and should these 
pages meet his eye, he will, I am sure, be pleased to find that 
I have not forgotten the days of 'auld lang syne,' or the many 
reminiscences of what occurred when we dressed in ' pro- 
pinquity ' in the same room. I introduced him to the Dublin 
audience ; and although (as, I grieve to say, they seldom do) 
they did not fill the theatre, they felt his excellence, and 
applauded him to the echo. He has retired, happily, from the 
anxious avocations of theatrical drudgery, and is, I trust, what 
I always predicted he would be, ' a warm little man.' The 
last remaining of that 'ould stock' is my first worthy employer 
and manager, William Murray, to whom I must, with an early 
opportunity, dedicate an exclusive leaf, which he is well worthy 
of, and which, I trust, he will take as a tribute of old friend- 



20 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OV 

ship. He, too, is about to retire (I wish I was !) and he leaves 
no actor like himself behind, in a long range of the most 
opposite characters. 

11 There was, in the Edinburgh Theatre, at the time I have 
been alluding to, an actor, by name Denham, now dead, but 
who deserves to be remembered. I saw him first in a small 
country theatre at Kelso, and recommended him strongly to 
Mr Murray, who engaged him at a trifling salary on my show- 
ing, but soon promoted him when he discovered his merit. 
His Dandle Dinmont and Mucklebachet were masterly pieces 
of acting ; and his King James, in The Fortunes of Nigel, 
delighted the author almost as much as the Bailie Jarvie of 
Mackay. It was unique, one of those unexpected coincidences 
you never dream of, and greatly assisted by a natural thickness 
of utterance, a sort of Northumbrian, or Border burr (which 
Sir Walter Scott himself had), in exact keeping with the 
physical peculiarities of the British Solomon. Neither let poor 
old Duff be forgotten, who has so lately l shuffled off his 
mortal coil,' and whose Dougal Creature was equally com- 
mended by the same high authority. Perhaps he wanted but 
the right opportunity, at the right moment, to have made him 
a great man. The curtain has fallen, and no human reasoning 
can now decide the question ; but that he had talent of a high 
order, and in a varied line, is unquestionable. Why it was 
permitted to waste itself in obscurity and indigence, and to be 
extinguished, in the winter of life, in utter helplessness, we 
know not, and have no right to inquire, but all, if they choose, 
may deduce from thence a salutary lesson. I met him first in 
Edinburgh when I joined that company in 1819. Everybody 
said he was a clever man ; all he did was done like an artist. 
I saw George the Fourth applaud his Dougal warmly. I left 
him in Edinburgh in 1824, and I found him again in neglect 
and obscurity, discharged from the Haymarket, in London, in 
1830. I was then mustering forces for my first campaign in 
Dublin ; he enlisted under my banners, and never left them 
until he received the final summons of a more imperative com- 
mander. 

" When George the Fourth visited Edinburgh, in 1822, he 
selected Rob Roy for the performance on the night of his at- 
tending the theatre in state, partly as a national compliment, 
and partly as a personal distinction to Sir Walter Scott, who 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 21 

had taken much trouble with all the arrangements during the 
royal sojourn. 

" A copy of the bill, with the cast of the play, may not be 
wholly uninteresting to our theatrical readers : — 

c THEATRE-ROYAL, EDINBURGH. 
BY COMMAND OF HIS MAJESTY. 

This present Tuesday, August 27, 1822, will be performed the 

National Opera of 

ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; 

OE, 

AULD LANGSYNE, 

"With the original Music and appropriate Scenery, 

Machinery, Dresses, and Decorations. 

Sir Frederick Vernon, Mr Munro. 

Rashleigh Osbaldistone, Mr Denham. 

Francis Osbaldistone, , Mr Huckel. 

Captain Thornton, Mr Murray. 

Major Galbraith, Mr Weekes. 

Rob Roy Macgregor Campbell, Mr Calcraft. 

Bailie Nicol Jarvie, Mr Mackay. 

Mr Owen, Mr Roberts. 

Mac Stuart, Mr Lee. 

Dougal, Mr Duff. 

AYillie, Master Hillyard. 

Andrew, Mr Aitken. 

Lancel, Mr St anley. 

Sergeant Mr Hillyard. 

Saunders Willie, Mr Power. 

Helen Macgregor, Mrs Renaud. 

Martha, Miss J. Nicol. 

Mattie, Miss Nicol. 

Hostess, Mrs Mackay. 

Jean M'Alpine, Mrs Nicol. 

Diana Vernon (for this night only), Mrs H. Siddons.' 

" There was no after-piece ; the doors opened at six, and the 
performances were to commence at eight, or as soon after as 
the King arrived, who was always punctual. The crowd 
began to assemble with the dawn of day ; at twelve it came on 



22 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

to rairi, and rained incessantly until six ; but ' no thought 
was there of dastard flight ;' money was offered for places in 
the throng, and indignantly refused ; the ' serried phalanx ' 
maintained their array until the appointed hour, and within a 
few minutes after, the pit was densely packed ; then arose 
from saturated garments a thick mist of damp and vapour, 
through which gas illuminations were but dimly seen, and 
which had scarcely dispersed when His Majesty entered his 
state-box. We recollect looking out from the window of our 
dressing-room on that wet and wearied crowd, impatient and 
worn out, and saying to ourselves, as the highwayman did on 
his way to Tyburn, and knowing we were to act the leading 
part in a very different sort of drama, ' You need not hurry, 
there'll be no fun till I come.' 

" Of the performers whose names appear in the bill we have 
copied not more than eight are now alive. 

11 The play of Bob Boy, up to this date, has been acted in 
Edinburgh nearly four hundred times, and in the provincial 
theatres of Scotland more than one thousand. I remember 
seeing the five hundredth representation announced in a play- 
bill of Ryder's at Perth, dated as far back as 1829. 

" The week before the arrival of the King all Scotland poured 
into Edinburgh. It was impossible to walk the streets with- 
out being jostled off the curbstones ; but, like sensible and 
well ordered lieges, as they are, they crowded the theatre 
nightly. In six evenings, with no auxiliary attraction, above 
£1000 was taken to the two old national and worn-out 
dramas of Rob Roy and the Heart of Mid- Lothian. Then 
came Edmund Kean, who had been engaged long before there 
was any intimation or idea of a royal visit, and the houses, if 
possible, were fuller still. The great tragedian, then in the 
full zenith of his fame and powers, was naturally much 
chagrined that one of his plays was not selected on the night 
of the royal command, and expected Macbeth. I thought he 
would have chosen to study Bob Boy for the occasion, which 
he had an undoubted right to do if he pleased, but I was not 
sorry to find he had no such intention. He was impressed 
with a most unfounded notion that the sovereign was per- 
sonally hostile to him, and said to me, in conversation on the 
subject, with epigrammatic bitterness, ' I am a greater man 
than ever I expected to be — I have a king for my enemy ! ' " 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 23 

We conclude our notice of Rob Roy with the following 
criticism from the Edinburgh Magazine: — 

" Rob Roy has continued really to fill the house for the 
astonishing period of forty-one successive nights, a run of good 
fortune, we believe, which no other piece represented in Edin- 
burgh ever met with. Much of the success which has attended 
this piece may no doubt be attributed to a national partiality to 
the scenes and the characters represented, and to the very ex- 
cellent manner in which the piece has been got up ; but we 
attribute its chief attraction to the close attention which has 
been paid, in adapting it to the theatre, to the incidents and the 
dialogue of the celebrated work from which it is taken. Most 
of the dialogue, indeed, seems to be given verbatim from the 
novel ; and the gentleman who has arranged it in a dramatic 
form has shown much judgment in not attempting to substitute 
the language and the manners of English peasants, for the 
strong and graphic characters, delineated with so much nature 
and truth by the incomparable author of Waverley and Guy 
Mannering. That this piece should not have succeeded so well 
in the capital is not to be wondered at, when it is considered 
how much of it must have been unintelligible to a London 
audience, and even though they had understood the expressive 
dialect in which the story is carried on, the manners and the 
peculiarities of this northern portion of the island are so alien to 
every thing English, that it is not surprising their admiration 
should have ceased as their eyes became familiar with the dress 
and the tartan of the clan Gregarach. It would be unjust, in 
a notice of Rob Roy, not to advert to the excellent representa- 
tives which the chief characters have found in our theatre. 
Mr Mackay, as Bailie Jarvie, admirably embodied to the eye 
and to the ear all the peculiarities which of right belong to a 
merchant — a magistrate — and member of the town-council in 
a Scottish corporation ; and the Creature Dougal seemed 
nature itself in the hands of Mr Duff. Mr Hamerton, in Rob 
Roy, was very respectable, and his manly figure did no dis- 
credit to the tartan which he wore. Mrs Renaud was excellent 
in Helen Campbell; and Mr Dobbs was quite at home in Major 
Galbraith. Mr Benson, though rather an inanimate lover, 
gave the songs very pleasingly ; and Mr Chippendale, in his 
brown suit, did the house of Osbaldistone honour by his re- 
presentation of its senior clerk and junior partner. It might 



24 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

have been better had Diana Vernon been put into hands more 
able to manage the songs of the part ; but, upon the whole, 
the piece was well cast, and excellently acted throughout." 

The vigorous measures pursued by Mr Murray for the relief 
of the Theatre, combined with the tone imparted to the estab- 
lishment by Sir Walter Scott's patronage, and also the favour- 
able reception accorded to almost the whole of the dramatised 
versions of his novels soon brought the affairs of the Theatre 
into a more prosperous condition, as will he seen from the address 
delivered by Mr Murray at the end of the season, an extract 
from which we reprint from the Edinburgh Magazine : — 
" Ladies and Gentlemen, — 

u This evening will conclude a season, which, commencing 
on the 3d of December last, has, with the intervention of 
about three weeks, afforded us the honour of appearing before 
you two hundred and forty-six nights ; and as its duration is, 
I believe, unprecedented in the theatrical annals of Edinburgh, 
so, in many instances, has its success been equally unexampled. 
A passing cloud may have, at intervals, darkened our prospects, 
but to dwell upon such temporary disappointments would be a 
very ungrateful return for that full blaze of public favour which 
we have generally enjoyed, and which it is our pride most 
gratefully to acknowledge. I cannot help alluding, Ladies and 
Gentlemen, to the very different situation we were placed in at 
the termination of the last season ; — then, almost overpowered by 
reverses, we scarcely knew how long we might have the honour 
of remaining in your service. Now, we confidently anticipate 
the successful issue of our speculation, assured that confidence 
is not ill-founded which firmly relies upon your kindness and 
support. In October last, we ventured to pledge ourselves that 
neither the failures we had experienced, or the difficulties by 
which we were surrounded, should damp or impede our efforts 
for your amusement ; and we trust, if you will "cast a retrospec- 
tive glance upon the arrangements of the season^- either in 
regard to the amusements produced during the winter, or to the 
additional aid we have procured from London to support our 
summer campaign — you will allow we have not forfeited our 
pledge, or in any instance failed in that attention and respect 
so eminently your due." 

Our readers must not, however, suppose that Murray was 
without opposition, or had " no rival near his throne," during 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. ZO 

the period of his management for his sister and her family. 
On the contrary, Edinburgh was gay with various kinds of 
exhibitions and concerts, wax-works, balls, lectures, and other 
attractions, which held, each in their turn, the inhabitants in their 
network of fascination. And, added to the list, and not the 
smallest of Murray's rivals, was the opposition-house, viz., the 
Caledonian Theatre, which, at various periods from the death 
of Mr Siddons up till 1830, continued to be tenanted by 
managers and actors of various degrees of ability, and, among 
others, H. Johnstone, an actor of considerable and varied 
powers. In his opening address he thus alluded to the 
" patent rights " of the other house : — 

"But proud Monopoly, with jealous lour, 
Here circumscribes the circle of our power ; 
Endures no rival near the seat of state, 
But madly brands us illegitimate.'" 

The opening night on the occasion of the above address was 
very brilliant, the house being extremely crowded, and the en- 
tertainments such as to give great satisfaction. The Dramatic 
Review of that period, after noticing the performances, con- 
cludes " by recommending our celebrated townsman to the 
patronage of our intellectual city, which we may also con- 
gratulate on the acquisition of another respectable addition to 
their source of amusements, and the honour that ought to 
accrue to their generosity, as well as taste, in holding out an 
equally friendly hand to the legitimate theatre of law and the 
aspiring one of legitimate talent." 

Early in 1819, Mr Murray took a leading part in establish- 
ing in Edinburgh an institution similar to some which already 
existed in London, viz., a theatrical fund or society to 
" afford relief and support to such actors and actresses who, 
being or having been engaged in the Theatre-Royal, Edinburgh, 
and, during such engagement, regularly proposed and accepted 
as members of the said fund, shall become incapacitated by age 
or infirmity from continuing the exercise of their profession. 

For about the next ten years there is little worthy of ela- 
borate notice in connection with the theatre, if we except, per- 
haps, the fights always going on between the proprietor of the 
patent and the lessee of the minor theatre. For instance, on 
the 24th of March 1825, we find a notice to the following 
effect: — "In the Court of Session, this day, Mrs Henry 
C 



26 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

Siddons, patentee of the Theatre-Royal, obtained an interdict 
against Mr Corbet Ryder, manager of the Caledonian Theatre, 
late Corri's Rooms, ' prohibiting and interdicting the acting at 
the Caledonian Theatre, all interludes, tragedies, comedies, 
plays, farces, or other entertainments of the stage, or any 
part or parts thereof, including melodramas and burlettas, 
which have been, or shall hereafter be, licensed by the Lord 
Chamberlain.' " This, we fancy, was the last battle of the 
kind, for Mr Murray was too good a general to rouse public 
opposition by prosecutions, even when the law was openly and 
ostentatiously violated. 

For the purpose of showing the strength of the company 
during this period, we subjoin a cast of the " Heart of Mid- 
Lothian " : — 

a THEATRE-ROYAL. 

This Evening, December 16, 1822, will be performed the National 
Drama of 

THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN. 

John, Duke of Argyle, Mr Jones. 

George Staunton, ,..Mr Calcraft. 

John Dumbie, Mr Mackay. 

David Deans, Mr Faulkner. 

Saddletree, Mr Boddie. 

Reuben Butler, Mr Denham. 

Mr Sharpitlaw, Mr Mason. 

Rasper, Mr Miller. 

Donald, Mr Power. 

James, Mr Hillyard. 

Serjeant of the Guard, Mr Aikin. 

Town-Guard, Messrs Dow, Mowat, &c. 

James Ratcliffe, Mr Duff. 

Black Frank, Mr Murray. 

Tyburn Tarn, Mr Bland. 

Queen of England, Mrs Renaud. 

Jeanie Deans, Mrs H. Siddons. 

Effie Deans, Miss Eyre. 

Mrs Glass, Mrs Nicol. 

Betty,. * Miss M. Nicoll. 

Margery Murdochson, Mrs Eyre. 

Wildfire, Miss Nicol." 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 27 

We have no doubt that, at this time, the Theatre-Royal had 

the best company out of London, despite the grumbling of the 

reviews and other small fry. In fact, the casts we have given 

are quite conclusive as to this. At this date there are very few 

of these persons alive who then formed the company ; and, with 

the exception of Murray himself and Miss Nieol, there is not 

one of them connected with the Edinburgh Theatre of 1851. 

Before we leave this part of our subject, we may mention, that 

the principal benefits, in 1828, commanded the following sums: — 

Mr Pritchard, £178 Mr Denham, £160 

Miss Nicol, 180 Mr & Mrs Stanley, 142 

Mr Murray, 160 Mr Jones, 112 

In 1830, the patent passed into the hands of Mr Murray 
entirely on his own account, and about this time he also con- 
ceived the idea of becoming lessee of the Adelphi Theatre, as 
well as the Theatre-Royal. Some play-goers, however, did not 
exactly relish this, and, at various times within the next ten 
years, we find enthusiastic individuals making objections, both 
verbally and in writing, to one manager holding both theatres. 
We select one article on the subject, as a specimen of the 
whole, for the edification of our readers : — 

" To what end are there two licensed theatres in this city, 
if one person be allowed to be lessee of both ? and what purpose 
is served by this state of things, except the upholding of a mono- 
poly alike injurous to the interests of the public, of the proprietors, 
of the lessee himself, and generally of the drama ? To prove 
that the monoply possessed by Mr Murray is detrimental to all the 
parties we have mentioned, seems, at first sight, a very difficult 
undertaking ; but when we come to consider it in reference to 
them singly, the difficulty is in a great measure removed. Thus, 
in regard to the public, it is easily seen that they would be gainers 
were the monoply abolished, for, in that case, they would, in all 
human probability, have two places of rational amusement instead 
of one ; and besides this, the competition that would necessarily 
be excited between the rival establishments would insure for them 
more spirited and enterprising management than exists even at 
present ; and there would be, of course, far more novelties pro- 
duced by two companies, than could possibly be done by one. 
We may be reminded by some of the fate of the dog in the fable, 
and told that in endeavouring to obtain two theatres we run a 
great risk of losing both ; but to this we reply, that Edinburgh is 



28 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

perfectly able to maintain two, as has been this season clearly 
proved in the case of the Theatre-Royal and Cooke's Circus, (both 
of which, though open at the same time, were very successful) ; 
and that therefore there is in reality no good grounds for even 
supposing such a thing. Next, in regard to the proprietors, it 
is evidently their interest to get as high a rent for their property 
as they can with safety. Now, can it be for a moment supposed 
that a lessee who kept the house open for only six months, could 
pay as high and as certain a rent as one who kept it open the 
whole year round ? Of course not. Therefore, the interest of the 
proprietors plainly is — to get a person as lessee who can keep the 
theatre open, at least, for the greater part of the year ; and this 
as plainly cannot be done by one who has both houses. From 
what we have just said, the inference is clear, that it is also the 
lessee's interest to rent one house only, for if he rents both, then 
he must pay for both, while he can only have the use of one at a 
time — thus he must always have one on his hand a dead weight. 
With respect to the drama, if there were two establishments, 
the rival exertions of the managers would be productive of the 
most favourable effects ; for each being anxious to produce some- 
thing better than the other, the result would be, that we would 
have all the best dramas and most attractive plays brought out 
here, without a moment's delay after their production in London 
and elsewhere. Nay, we would also have new pieces of our own. 
From the same causes, too, our theatrical corps would be more 
efficient. In conclusion, we hope that all will see it to be for 
their interest that there should be not only two Theatres, but 
also two managers and two companies in Edinburgh. London 
has sixteen ; Manchester, three ; Dublin, two ; and Liverpool, 
two; and why should not Edinburgh and Leith (for in all re- 
spects, but the name, they are one city), have two also ?" 

Since the above was written, we have had an attempt at 
another house. The Victoria Theatre on the Mound, it was 
thought, would shake the monopoly, but in this most parties 
have been disappointed. The manager was found wanting in 
the necessary tact, and the result has been a decided failure. 
Capital was wanting — the concern was starved — and the popular 
enthusiasm which courted a rival to Murray was disgusted. 
Some good actors and actresses were provided, but poverty, in 
the shape of small salaries, warned them off the premises, and 
they went over to the " other house," where wages were sure, 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 2d 

and regularly paid. How Wyndham will succeed remains to be 
seen. There ought to be room for two theatres in Edinburgh, 
although some people croak to the contrary. The question is 
this, will people go out of the way to get to Wyndham's house, 
when they knock up against Lloyd's on their way thither? 
The Adelphi is too small to pay without stars, and too small to 
pay with stars. The patricians of the profession will always 
honour the royal house. It is largest, and, consequently, their 
share of the proceeds is in proportion. The Adelphi being out 
of the way is a sad stumblingblock — people must have their 
amusements thrust into their face — stars will not go to it if 
they can help it, the reason why is obvious — it is too small — 
their share of the profits would not content them. The usual 
attendance will not pay an expensive company. Without some 
attraction nobody will go at all, simply because the house is out 
of the way. What a pity it is neither in Leith nor Edinburgh. 
Had it been in Leith it would have been crowded nightly. If it 
had been placed in the Old Town, with a threepenny gallery, 
and a clever company, it would be a fortune to its lessee. As 
it is, we fear it must remain a sort of curse to all connected 
with it. Novelty for a time may carry it forward, but we much 
fear that permanent success is unattainable. At any rate, we 
shall watch with anxiety the result of this new experiment at 
the Adelphi. All honour to Wyndham for his bold attempt — 
if a footing can be secured on such slippery ground, he is the 
man to secure it — he has the good will of many, and the help 
of those who are both able and willing to support him. 

On April 10th, 183i, Mrs Nicol, who, during a long period, 
had been a prominent member of the theatre, took her farewell 
benefit and retired from the stage. As a memorial of the occa- 
sion, we present our readers with a copy of her bill, which was 
as follows : — 

* THEATRE -ROYAL. 
MRS nicol's farewell benefit. 

Mrs Nicol cannot find words to express her gratitude for the 
kind patronage with which she has been honoured by the public 
of Edinburgh, Leith, &c>, during a period of twenty-seven years. 
Fearing, however, to trespass on that kindness, by attempting 
to fulfil the duties of her profession, when she might be con- 
sidered unequal to the task, Mrs Nicol most respectfullv 
2 c 



30 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

announces her retirement from the stage ; but not without a 
hope of being again favoured with the support of her friends 
and patrons for the last time. 

On Thursday, April 10, 1834, will be performed Sheridan's Comedy of 

THE RIVALS. 

Sir Anthony Absolute by Mr Mackay. 

Sir Lucius O'Trigger by Mr Barret. — Captain Absolute, Mr Balls. 

Falkland by Mr Stuart. — Acres by Mr Murray. 

David, Mr Lloyd.— Fag by Mr Miller. 

Coachman by Mr Power. — John by Mr Thomas. 

William, Mr Elliot. — Mrs Malaprop by Mrs Nicol. 

Lydia Languish by Mrs Balls. — Lucy by Miss Newton. 

Maid by Miss Hartley. — Julia Melville by Mrs Barrett. 

A favourite Pas de Deux, by Mr Gilbert and Miss Ballin. 

Comic Song — ' Down the River,' by Mr Lloyd. 

To which will be added the favourite Operetta of 
NO I 

Comic Dance by Mr Jonas. 

The whole to conclude with the popular Farce of 
RAISING THE WIND. 

Miss Nicol, who is still a member of the Edinburgh theatre, 
succeeded her mother in nearly all the parts which she had 
rendered so popular ; and, we dare say, we will be borne out in 
our assertion, when we say, that there is not at present an 
actress on the stage who is at all equal to her, in the wide range 
of difficult and arduous personations which she has so long and 
so ably sustained ; and we may venture also, with great truth, 
to place this accomplished lady in the catalogue of actresses who 
have been as blameless in private life as they have been eminently 
useful on the stage. 

We have little of interest now to record, connected either per- 
sonally with Mr Murray, or through his connection with the 
theatre. His partnership with Yates of London is too recent to 
be at all novel. He met with an accident at Duddingstone, we 
believe, but he soon recovered from its effects. He has had a 
silver vase presented to him by the committee for the Triennial 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 31 

Competition of Pipers, as a mark of esteem for his kindness and 
attention on those occasions. We purposely pass over at pre- 
sent a great number of small incidents in his life — such as his 
projected removal to Liverpool — his visits to Glasgow — his 
periods of ill health, &c. &c. &c. These are all so modern, and 
would require so much of our space for their full detail, that we 
at present forbear from entering upon them. There may come 
a time when it shall be necessary to write Murray's life at greater 
length, in the meantime, we content ourselves with this sketch. 
In the latter part of 1844, (November 2d.) Mr Murray lost 
his accomplished sister, Mrs Henry Siddons, who, for upwards 
of twenty-five years, was the distinguished luminary of the 
Edinburgh Theatre, of which valuable property she eventually 
became nearly the sole proprietor. During that long period, 
Mrs Siddons not only delighted the Edinburgh audience by her 
own fascinating personations, but in conjunction with her ac- 
complished brother, our present worthy manager, gave a tone 
of refinement to our dramatic representations, and of high 
respectability to the profession, which elevated the character of 
our stage. In the higher walk of comedy, Vrc believe, Mrs H. 
Siddons was admitted to be surpassed by none on the metro- 
polian boitids, even in that bright era. As Beatrice, Rosalind, 
Portia, Lady Teazle, Miss Hardcastle, and a long list which 
it would be impossible to enumerate here, few will forget the 
style of her acting. It was comic vivacity of the highest 
order ; playful, brilliant, and full of exquisite point and polish, 
though Mrs Siddons could impart deep interest to scenes of 
quiet pathos — and we retain & vivid recollection of her efforts 
in some of her best inelo-drama's and short dramatic sketches — 
still she did not aspire to the more impassioned and lofty 
sphere of the drama. Her style was the beautiful, not the 
grand, which she willingly resigned to her great relative, whose 
name she so willingly bore. But in her own province — and it 
can scarcely be said to be secondary to, but rather co-ordinate 
with the strict domain of the tragic muse — Mrs Siddons 
stood almost alone in excellence. In private life, Mrs Siddons 
was the model of all that was exemplary and amiable, pursuing 
the tenor of her domestic duties, contemporaneously with pro- 
fessional toil, with a quiet undeviating care, that rendered her 
no less beloved in her immediate circle than admired in the 
dramatic scene. By a numerous and most select circle of 



32 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

private friends, the loss of this lady was deeply felt, such 
was her modest unassuming grace in society, and the public 
will long associate her memory with many of their most delight- 
ful and intellectual hours of recreation. 

The death of his accomplished sister was so severe a blow to 
Mr Murray, that it caused his retirement from the active duties 
of his profession for a period of many months. In his short 
address on his re-appearance, he says : — " It is as unnecessary 
as it would be painful for me to allude to the loss which has 
made me so long a stranger to these boards ; but I may confess 
that my absence has been somewhat lengthened by the growing 
fear, that an almost nightly service of five and thirty years 
might have somewhat weaned you. Your reception of me to- 
night has dissipated that fear ; and I shall take every oppor- 
tunity of again devoting my humble abilities to the renewed 
service of my kind friends and patrons." 

The retirement of Mr Mackay from the Edinburgh Theatre, 
is an event that claims at our hand some notice, both for the 
fact of his having been long a member of the Edinburgh corn- 
pan"!— n-Gin {&£ great blunder he has committed in once 
again revisiting'thelbotlights, SP-d from the blameable manner 
io which his retirement was announced. Few managers, we 
think, would have ventured on such a bill as the following : — 

M This Present Evening Tuesday, April 25, 1848, will be performed, 

for the Last Time in Edinburgh, the celebrated National Opera, 

in Three Acts, entitled 

ROB ROY. 

Rob Roy Macgregor, by Mr Edmund Glover. 
Sir Frederick Vernon, by Mr Ray— Rashleigh Osbaldistone, by 

Mr Wyndham. 

Francis Osbaldistone, by Mr W. H. Eburne, in which character 

he will sing ' My Love is Like a Red Red Rose ' — ' Auld 

Langsyne' — ' Macgregor's Gathering.' 

And, with Miss Coveney, the Duets of 

' Though you Leave me now in Sorrow ' — and ' Forlorn and 

Broken-Hearted.' 

Dou^al by Mr Josephs— Captain Thornton by Mr Weekley. 

Major Galbraith by Mr Murray— Mr Owen by Mr Lloyd. 

Bailie Nicol Jarvie by Mr Mackay, being his Last Appearance 

in that Character in this City. 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 33 

M' Stuart by Mr Honey— Sergeant by Mr Henry. 
Hamish by Mr Carroll— Jobson by Mr Vaudrey — Eobert by 

Master Josephs. 
Saunders Wylie by Mr Freeman — Andrew Fairservice by 

Mr C. Lloyds. 
Helen Macgregor by Miss Cleaver — Hostess by Mrs Josephs. 

Jean M'Alpine by Miss Nicol— Mattie by Miss H. Coveney. 
Diana Vernon by Miss Coveney, in which character she will sing 
'A Highland Lad my Love was Born ' — and a Favourite Ballad. 



In the Course of the Evening-, Mr Mackay will bid Farewell to his 
kind Friends and Patrons. 



The whole to conclude with, for the Last Time in Edinburgh, the 
National Drama, entitled 

CRAMOND BRIG. 

James, King of Scotland, by Mr Wilson, in which character he 

will sing the National Ballad of 
' The Flowers of the Forest,' and Sir Walter Scott's Ballad of 

1 The Young Lochinvar.' 

Jock Howieson by Mr Mackay, being his Last Appearance in 

that Character in this City." 

We make no comment on this ourselves, but we borrow from 
the ' Opera-Glass ' of the period, the following paragraph relating 
to the subject : — 

11 Has some goddess begged from the father of the gods im- 
mortal life for Murray, as Aurora did for Tithonus, that he an- 
nounces so positively Rob Roy for the last time in Edinburgh ? 
If so, like Aurora, she has forgotten to add immortal youth. Or 
is it the \ sunset of life ' which is giving him the ' mystical lore ' 
that enables him thus to prophesy ? Or can it be but the puerile 
babblings of a second childhood ? From whatever cause spring- 
ing, however, a more absurd or ridiculous announcement never 
disgraced the Edinburgh play- bills. AH honour to Mackay ! 
Many a happy night have we enjoyed with him ; he was the best 
Bailie we ever saw, but not the only one. At the Glasgow 
Adelphi,some three years since, we saw Rob Roy played nearly as 
well as ever, during the last twenty years, it has been done in Edin- 
burgh. The announcement would be in bad taste were it even 



34 THE RISE AND PROGRESS OF 

limited to the period of Murray's rule, for is there not the 'lemple 
to give it the lie within the week ? But the truth is, that 
Murray has been so accustomed to lord it as perpetual dictator 
in the theatrical world, that, in the vanity of his heart, he seems 
to have quite forgotten that there is a limit beyond which no 
man can go. It may not, it cannot be long ere the thread of his 
waking dream is cut short." 

On the evening of the farewell, the house was indeed brilliant, 
and it is only on most rare occasions that we have seen so much 
enthusiasm displayed. The occasion, too, was rendered remark- 
able by the appearance of the late Mr John Wilson, Scot- 
land's best vocalist, who kindly gave his services on the occasion. 
We cannot do better than copy from the Edinburgh papers the 
address delivered on the occasion : — 

" Ladies and Gentlemen — The last duty I have to perform this 
evening, I feel to be the most painful and difficult I have ever 
had to discharge within these walls. This night terminates 
my professional labours on this stage. To part with friends is 
a melancholy thing at all times. In taking leave of such kind 
and liberal friends as you have ever proved yourselves to be to 
me, while I am most anxious to say all that the most sincere 
gratitude and respect can prompt, I am as anxious not to tire 
you with long egotistical remarks, or wearisome allusions to 
bygone days. Still the past has been so marked and honoured 
by your favour and support, that some notice of it is due to 
you. Few, alas ! very few, are now present who witnessed my 
first appearance on these boards, now more than a quarter of a 
century ago. That appearance I owed chiefly to the success 
which had attended my humble efforts in the delineation of a 
certain character while a member of the Aberdeen Theatre. 
Shortly after my coming to this theatre, I was again intrusted 
with the same character, and on the first night that Rob Roy 
was performed on this stage, the Great Unknown (for though 
great, he was then unknown), was one of the audience. At 
this moment, as Hamlet says, I see him in my mind's eye, as 
he sat leaning on his staff on the back seat of one of the boxes. 
(Here Mr Mackay pointed with his finger to the spot occupied 
by Sir Walter Scott on that occasion). Never shall I forget 
the sparkle of his eye, and the good-humoured smile on his 
face, on that to me momentous night. It is to the pen of the 
mighty dead I owe my theatrical reputation. Had he never 



THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 35 

written, I never should have been noticed as an actor. To " 
him, then, and to you, I am indebted for the little I have 
saved for the maintenance of my old age. The kindness of 
Sir Walter Scott was, ladies and gentlemen, as some of you 
well know, only equalled by his genius — and on the night 
when he declared himself to be the author of the novels, you 
may judge of my surprise, when he was pleased to say before 
the then assembled hundreds, ' that the skeleton he had drawn 
had been so faithfully clothed by his friend Bailie Nicol Jarvie 
that he was grateful.' ' My conscience !' grateful to me ; there 
was a compliment ! and from such a man ! So far from cloth- 
ing skeletons, I felt that I was but labouring to embody the 
most perfect delineations that ever issued from the mind of 
man. No wonder, then, I have always been proud of the 
cognomen of Bailie Nicol Jarvie. Some friends have, at times, 
apologised for calling me the ' Bailie ' — little thinking at the 
time the pleasure I experienced in hearing it. The Bailie has 
now been before you for many a year, and though often I have 
been tempted by liberal offers to leave you, I have preferred re- 
maining in my native city, before an indulgent audience, and 
with a kind and liberal manager. When I am gone, he alone 
remains the last of all the performers in the original cast of 
Rob Roy. We have now been associated together as actor and 
manager for the space of thirty years, and during the whole of 
that lengthened period, one angry word has never passed be- 
tween us. I have long been happy in the enjoyment of his 
friendship, and parting with him will be to me an additional 
pang. Many of my friends say, Why should I leave the stage 
while yet my personation of the Scottish character is as vigorous 
as ever ? Alas ! they know not the effort it costs me to appear so. 
My health has been sorely tried of late. I now begin to find the 
hand of time pressing heavily upon me — so much so, that I feel 
the necessity of repose during the short time it may please Pro- 
vidence to suffer me to remain on life's stage. Surely my 
kind friends would rather see me secure my retreat from the 
stage, than behold me linger thereon, when declining years and 
mental weakness would but remind them that the Bailie was 
now become the shadow of his former self. Such a sight would 
be too painful both to myself and you. Fain would I linger 
over this parting scene. May every earthly happiness attend 
upon you all in your different spheres. I am well aware I carry 



36 THE THEATRE IN EDINBURGH. 

with me into private life all your warmest and kindest wishes 
for my welfare and happiness. And now, ladies and gentlemen, 
the Bailie you have seen for the last time, and honest John 
Howieson is left to pronounce the final word — farewell !" 

The retirement of Mr Mackay was but the prelude to a 
similar announcement on the part of Mr Murray, and when 
the public learned a few seasons ago, that he was on the point 
of retiring after a service of forty years, a universal feeling of 
regret took possession of the public mind, at the prospect of 
losing a man who had done so much for the elevation of taste, 
and the purification of the Theatre in Edinburgh. This is, 
perhaps, neither the proper time nor the proper place to enter 
fully upon a consideration of Mr W. H. Murray's abilities as 
an actor, but we may fearlessly pronounce, without fear of con- 
tradiction, that he leaves no equal on the British Stage. He 
is great in everything he does — his genius is universal, and 
he has no equal in his variety. " From the mock heroics of 
the Mock Duke to the melting pathos of Grandfather White- 
head, is a transition that few comic actors could successfully 
undertake — with Murray it is an act of easy accomplishment. 
To catalogue the whole of this gentleman's achievements on 
the Edinburgh stage would be just to write its history. We 
know of no part in which he has failed. In legitimate comedy 
he is a perfect leviathan, and in Shakesperian parts — more es- 
pecially in the small parts of the great bard, such as the 
Second Grave Digger, and the courtier Osrick — his acting is 
masterly indeed. There is no actor, not Farren himself, who 
takes such pains with what he does as Murray. Be the part 
great or small, in his hands it is sure to come out a picture of 
the most perfect finish, and, perhaps, the smaller the part the 
more this will be apparent. There are some characters which 
he has made peculiarly his own, such as Dominique the 
Deserter, Gregory in the " Tailor of Tamworth," Flutter, and 
many more of a similar kind* Some of these are his most per- 
fect delineations — eccentric and humorous to the last degree' — 
relished by all, and considered by critics as* master-pieces of 
comic delineation." Wishing him every happiness in the new 
life that, in his old age, is opening before him, we reluctantly 
say farewell to one of the finest comedians that ever trod the 
boards of a theatre. 



THE 



FAREWELL ADDBESSES, 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
October 27, 1827. 

My Ladies and Gentlemen, — I am commanded by our 
Dramatic Sovereign, Mrs Henry Siddons, to present myself 
before you, a sort of Theatrical Lord Commissioner, to express 
to you the high satisfaction she feels at the success which has 
attended the theatre during the present season, and to request 
your acceptance, not only of her best thanks, but of that of 
every member of the establishment, before we respectfully re- 
lease you from further attendance, at present, in this our 
Thespian House of Lords and Commons. 

I have also to inform you that she continues to receive from 
the metropolitan powers assurances of their kindly feelings to- 
wards the theatre, and that she has formed alliances, not offen- 
sive. I hope, with several of the most powerful potentates of the 
drama. Amongst whose names we may enumerate those of 
Vandenhoff, Miss Noel, Charles Kemble, Mathews, and your 
monstrous favourite, T. P. Cooke, whilst others of equal 
celebrity are under consideration of her Majesty's Most Wise 
and Right Honourable Privy Council, comprised in the person 
of your humble servant. 

I am farther directed to thank you for the very liberal sup- 
plies you have granted for the service of the year, and, believe 
me, I am the very first Lord of the Treasury who ever hoped 
D 



38 FAREWELL ADDRESSE8. 

to merit your approbation by stating, that no consideration of 
economy should regulate his conduct farther than is consistent 
with a necessary attention to profit, and the probable duration 
of this somewhat ancient building. 

Her Theatrical Majesty is happy to perceive that the various 
bills laid before you during the present session have received 
your uniform approbation, having been supported by very con- 
siderable majorities ; and we have the pleasure of stating, that 
the public business of this house has never been for one night 
postponed from the melancholy circumstance of there not being 
forty members present. 

Again tendering our sincere and grateful thanks, I now, in 
virtue of my commission, issued under his Excellency the 
Prompter's seal, do, in Mrs H. Siddon's name, and in obedi- 
ence to her commands, prorogue this session of theatrical 
amusement until Saturday, the 10th day of November next, 
to be then here holden, and respectfully hoping that on that 
occasion you, our kind friends and legislators, will be found 
duly returned. This house, the entertainments of the evening 
being concluded, is accordingly prorogued till Saturday, the 
10th day of November. 

Thus much, ladies and gentlemen, for my official duties. 
Now to execute a commission from your favourite, Miss 
Stephens, who begs by me to return her sincere acknowledg- 
ments for your undiminished patronage, and also publicly to 
express the obligation she feels under to Madame Pasta, for 
her great kindness in postponing the concert which had been 
announced for this evening. I can only add, that I should 
feel very proud were it in my humble power to be of any ser- 
vice to that distinguished singer, And once more thanking 
you, ladies and gentlemen, I most respectfully take my leave. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October .25, 1828. 

Ladies and Gentlemen,— It is a very common expres- 
sion, that no man is aware of his own wit till he has damaged 
his shins against it ; and I now present myself a melancholy 
example of its truth. It is one of the many duties, and cer- 
tainly one of the few pleasures of my office, that I should, at 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 39 

the expiry of every season, request your acceptance of our 
thanks for your patronage during its progress; and when I 
last appeared before you for that purpose, thirteen years had 
elapsed since first my dulcet tones had saluted you with the 
well-known sounds of " ladies and gentlemen." For the said 
thirteen years had I annually run through the managerial 
vocabulary of — " Liberal public " — " Splendid patronage " — 
"Faithful servants" — ''Feeling hearts " — ; ' Grateful for the 
past " — M Anxious to see you again " — " Respectfully fare- 
well " — et cetera, et cetera, — until I feared that the monotony 
of my professions must have struck upon your wearied ears like 
when our orchestra strikes up " Kelvin Grove," "The Bonnie 
Breast- knots," or, " Blue Bonnets over the Border." I felt 
the defect, and laboured to remove it, I thought of my speech 
— I dreamt of my speech — I wrote my speech ; but still it was 
the same thing over again, and I burnt my speech — I re-com- 
posed, re-wrote, and re-consumed, till, like Iago, 
" my invention 

Came from my pate, as bird-lime does from frize, 

It pluck'd out brains and all" 

The hours flew — evening approached — and no speech, I was 
in agony, the perspiration burst from every pore — still no 
speech ; and I was on the point of requesting a medical friend 
to invalid me, when the idea occurred of constituting myself a 
sort of Lord High Commissioner, and in the name of her sub- 
lime majesty, Mrs Henry Siddons, proroguing — I request your 
attention, ladies and gentlemen, to the expression ^rorc^'/^ — 
this our Theatrical House of Lords and Commons. Owing to 
your good nature, the thought proved fortunate. "The speech" 
was u applauded to the very echo that should applaud again ;" 
to borrow the splendid imagery of my own voracious play-bills, 
u it was honoured with shouts of laughter and thunders of 
approbation, by a brilliant, a fashionable, and an overflowing 
audience." And to fill up the measure of my vanity, one of 
our most celebrated critics declared the speech to be an ex- 
cellent speech ; and if not exactly a witty one, at least within 
a very few doors of it. But here, ladies and gentlemen, ended 
all my glories ; for by some unfortunate ambiguity in the 
choice of my expressions, or from some equally unfortunate 
misconception on your parts, what I proposed as a temporary 
prorogation, you received as a final dissolution ; and at the 



40 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

ensuing re-election the attendance was so thin, that it appeared 
as if two-thirds of our previous honourable members had been 
convicted of bribery and corruption, and disqualified for ever 
more sitting in this house. Vainly did we— to borrow the 
terms of an Act of Parliament passed in the — I don't know 
what year — of Queen Anne, for the better government of 
actors, vagrants, and other sturdy beggars, — vainly did we 
run through the various attractions of " Tragedy, Comedy, 
Play, Farce, Opera, Burletta, Melo-drama, Prelude, Interlude, 
Afterlude, and all other entertainments of the stage." All was 
vain, — the treasury benches were but thinly peopled — the 
opposition, not content with sitting on the other side of the 
house, took their seats in another house altogether ; and we 
close accounts for the season with no inconsiderable balance 
on the wrong side of the ledger. So much for my first 
approximations to wit in my farewell addresses ; for in all 
theatres, the manager being the ligitimate source of all evil, I 
am, of course, responsible for reverses ; and as in casting a, 
retrospective glance over the arrangements of last season, I 
cannot plead guilty to want of exertion, I must again and 
again attribute our failure to the mistake occasioned by my 
unfortunately clever and witty speech. Never more, ladies and " 
gentlemen, will I be guilty of such a display of talent. Plain 
matter-of-fact shall hereafter restrain my oratory, and my life 
shall be passed in atoning to my ill-fated employer for the 
joke I indulged in, as it has proved, at her expense. Should I, 
after being left in so serious a minority, be allowed to remain 
in office, the sincerity of my repentance shall be evinced in the 
decorations of the theatre — the talents of the company — the 
constant production of every novelty that may appear likely to 
conduce to your amusement — and the engagement of every 
London performer whose talents may deserve your notice, and 
whose terms I can possibly agree to with the slightest prospect 
of a balance in favour. In short, ladies and gentlemen, as one 
cold look cannot efface the recollection of former kindnesses, so 
with us, the reverses of one season are held as nothing, when 
we- reflect on the liberal patronage we have on so many occa- 
sions experienced from you ; and we resume our efforts with 
undiminished confidence that the Edinburgh public will never 
abandon their national theatre, or cease to regard with favour 
those who have for nineteen years laboured in their service. I 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 41 

thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for the kindness with which 
you have listened to me, and with sincere wishes for the health 
and happiness of every individual I have the honour of address- 
ing, I once more take my leave. 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 
November 4, 1828. 
After the play, the following Address (in which we think we 
can trace the lively spirit of the best speech-maker of the age, 
Sir Walter Scott), was delivered with admirable grace and ta- 
lent by Mrs Siddons. — Weekly Journal, 

Mrs Siddons. (Speaking Behind.) 
Don't talk to me ; I tell ye it's a shame, 
And all before the curtain say the same. 

(Entering.) 
I enter certainly in strange confusion, 
But hope you'll pardon my abrupt intrusion , 
When I confess my present situation 
Is one so full of pain and irritation a 
That, no more able my complaints to smother, 
At your Tribunal I impeach — my Brother, 
Of misdemeanours without stint or measure, 
Of disobedience to my royal pleasure ; 
For say whate'er I will, his pompous frown, 
And plump negatur, knock my project down, 
Till my whole reign's one scene of pet and worry, 
Like poor Queen Mary and her Eegent Murray. 
To-night my wish to speak to you was met 
By the old answer, ll 'tis n't etiquette ;" 
But I'm determined, and now ask the reason, * 
If with a speech my brother ends the season, 
Why I, when here beginning one anew, 
May not indulge in speechifying too ? 
'Tis hard enough resigning the last word, 
But more to humour him is quite absurd. 
He w ith a bow may see you out, and then 
I will with curtseys welcome you again. 
Which is the more judicious system, tell, — 

la 



42 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

His most respectfully bidding you farewell ? 
Or the new practice I to-night begin 
Of, as respectfully, bidding you walk in ? 
At least I'll try it ; when all's done and past, 
I can't make this year worse than he the last. 
Indeed I'm somewhat tired of the elf, 
And think of looking into things myself ; 
For tho' reluctant to speak ill, I own, 
Of " Regent Murray, " he mistakes the town. 

As don't be angry now, but, entre nous, 

'Tis not so much what's good, as what is new, 

Oft brings you here ; and truly 'tis a bore, 

For ever hearing what you've heard before ; 

To see the bills present you nothing daily 

But the old names — Jones, Denham, and the Bailie. 

At night compelled to stay at home, or go 

And see " Rob Roy, " "Guy Mannering, w and " No; " 

Paul Pry's intrusions, or Pong Wong's grimaces, 

Pritchard's deep agonies, or Mason's faces. 

Then, tho' from " Indies to the Pole " we rove, 

'Tis all "Sweet Home, " Young Love, " or " Kelvin Grove." 

Nay, I expect some night, the Thane of Cawdor 

Will introduce " Blue Bonnets o'er the Border," 

Nor should I wonder Hotspur taught his Starling 

To tell King Henry, " Charlie was his darling " — 

" Toujours Perdrix " wont do, that's very clear ; 

So, Call Boy (enter Call Boy) send Mr Murray here. 

(Exit Call Boy). 
And on the instant, friends let's try now whether 
We can't reform this system altogether. 

Enter Mr Murray. 
Come hither, Manager. (Mr Murray bows respectfully.) 

Some hold opinion 
You've lately fail'd in talents for dominion ; 
So now to skill and character depone, 
Or else " Othello's occupation's gone ; " 
For if convicted here, beyond all doubt 
I take the reins myself and walk you out. 

Mr Murray. 
Sister, I need'st must think some better way 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 43 

Mrs H. SlDDONS. 
I care not, William, what you think or say. 
Answer this question — Did last season pay ? 
No. — Then, as like kings, the public do no wrong, 
To managers, like ministers, belong 
All faults and failures. But I'll talk no more ; 
These are your judges, as I said before. 
(To the audience.) To your decision I refer his cause. 
Guilty, a hiss; — Not Guilty — then, applause. 

Mr Murray (to the audience and advancing,') 
Soft you, a word or two before I go — 
I've done the state some service, perhaps you know ; 
No more of that. I pray you in your letters, 
Stating these deeds unlucky to my betters, 
Speak of me as I am, extenuate naught, 
Nor in malicious language set down aught — 
Then must you speak of one, who, truth to tell, 
Managed not wisely, but intended well, 
Who owns, a lady's anger to appease, 
He fail'd in judgment, not in wish to please ; 
Set you down this, and set you down besides, 
He bends at once, to what your voice decides, 
If murmers follow me, I'm lost of men, 
But if applause — Richard's himself again ! 

Mrs H. Siddons. 
Nem, con. 'tis carried ; then I re-instate him, 
And Generalissimo anew create him. 
My hand shall sign, 'tis yours must set the seal, — 
A kindness which I trust he'll ever feel, 
And, like myself, for ever keep in view, 
He owes his All — to you — and you — and you. 

(To Gallery, Boxes, and Pit.) 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
June 20, 1829. 
Mr Murray not having appeared at the end of the Opera, he 
was assailed by the hisses of two or three parties on his en- 
trance in the part of " Simpson & Co." With a look much 
less comic than usual, he spoke nearly as follows : — 

" Symtoms of disapprobation from an Edinburgh audience 



44 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

are so unusual in my case, that I feel justified in stopping to 
ask the cause. If the audience called for me, I was not in- 
formed of the fact ; besides, 1 was dressing for my character, 
and it would not have been decorous to have appeared before you 
in that condition. If, however, it was expected that I should 
have addressed you on this occasion, I have to state that the 
annual address is usually made at the end of October. I also 
feel reluctant to annoy you with any account of our reverses ; 
but I trust, by the production of a succession of novelties, to 
deserve your patronage, and through that patronage to be able 
to report more favourably in October, when I sh,all have the 
honour of addressing you," 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
October 24, 1829. 
(Braharrfs Benefit') 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — The conclusion of our season 
demands the annual tribute of our thanks, and yet how to 
vary the words of my address, so as to avoid the dullness of 
eternal repetition, I know not, There are many ways of 
saying the same thing certainly, but you will not wonder at 
my present hesitation when you reflect that I have been paying 
my addresses to you for upwards of sixteen years. On a 
former occasion I assumed the dignity of a Lord Commissioner, 
and ventured to dissolve this our Theatrical House of Lords 
and Commons^ but fatal experience convinced me of my error, 
and I now present myself in the more humble capacity of a 
Chancellor of the Exchequer, respectfully moving that you re- 
solve yourselves into a Committee of the whole House, while I 
make a few allusions to the past, and then briefly open my 
budget of ways and means for the future. 

The present season commenced most prosperously, and, for 
a time, promised to repair all previous disasters ; but many 
weeks had not elapsed when events of a very painful nature 
clouded the public mind, and we, in common with other 
places of amusement, suffered considerable depression — a de- 
pression which, magnified by Madam Rumour with her hundred 
tongues, deprived us of most of that aid from London on 
which we had calculated. Indeed, during my late visit to 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 45 

that metropolis, many of my friends expressed their regret 
that we should have been so often obliged to dismiss our 
audiences for the want of sufficient attendance. No, no, 
ladies and gentlemen, however limited the attendance, we 
knew the difficulty of getting you in too well to let you out 
again when once we had you. Alarmed by these reports, " my 
stars shone darkly over me ;" and, driven to extremities, I 
decked myself in that irresistible charm, a scarlet jacket, and 
in the character of Sergeant Kite, ventured an appeal to the 
ladies of Edinburgh. It succeeded, and it is in a great mea- 
sure owing to their kindness on that occasion that our losses 
are now so much less than we at one time anticipated. That 
we have suffered in common with every winter theatre of any 
rank in the kingdom, must be ascribed to the general depres- 
sion of that period. That we have suffered less is owing to 
your liberality, and we with pleasure acknowledge our obliga- 
tions. Indeed, last season, public attention was so engrossed 
by political feelings that the drama seemed forgotten, even by 
those who had been its firmest friends ; and I have more than 
once been asked by residents in Edinburgh if the theatre was 
open, when some London performer of eminence was acting 
here. But that this indifference was not confined to Edin- 
burgh I can prove by two anecdotes, given me by my friends, 
Young and Mathews, which, with your permission, I will 
repeat. Young once met a friend in London, who thus ad- 
dressed him : — u My dear Young, how delighted I am to meet 
you ; — quite well I see, and prepared for your labours. You'll 
be sorry to hear how the theatres are going down. You know 
I'm a theatrical man, and regret it deeply. But when do you 
appear ? I'm waiting for you — watching anxiously for the 
legitimate drama. When do you come out ?" This was about 
the middle of the season, and Young had been playing at 
Drury Lane from the very commencement, at least three 
nights a-week. The next instance was related to me by 
Mathews, with all that point and character which so 
eminently distinguish that celebrated comedian. Walking 
down the Strand, he was encountered by a respectable old 
gentleman, who began upon that heart-rending topic, thea- 
trical distress, saying, " It was not so in my young days, Mr 
Mathews. Theatres prospered then, for you know I have 
been a theatrical man all my life ; but, though I regret the 



40 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

state of the patent theatres, I rejoice at your success. I have 
kept my eye on you. Full houses at the English Opera 
house every night, I see. Glad of it, on your account." At 
this time Mathews had been five months in partnership with 
Yates at the Adelphi. Then, ladies and gentlemen, with this 
indifference on the part of " theatrical people," can we wonder 
that the theatrical receipts have somewhat diminished ? But 
to resume my official language, I am happy to say, that the 
revenue of the last quarter presents a favourable increase, 
leaving us no reason to apprehend any diminution in our na- 
tional resources. I fear I have trespassed too long upon your 
patience, so will at once open my budget. To meet the ex- 
penses of the approaching season, I propose a tax. Don't 
start, ladies and gentlemen ; I do not touch the necessaries of 
life. No ; like a prudent financier, I lay all my impositions 
upon luxuries — tragedy, comedy, opera, play, farce, melo- 
drama, and pantomime; and I propose collecting the usual 
duties upon those articles by the aid of Messrs Young, Mac- 
ready, Vandenhoff, Cooke, Mathews, Liston, Miss Paton, Miss 
Jarman, Miss Foote, and that fair and bright luminary, Miss 
Fanny Kemble. I therefore move, that it may be lawful for 
us to levy the customary prices of admittance to this theatre 
in sums not exceeding five shillings, or less than sixpence, the 
surplus produce of such sums, should any surplus produce arise 
above the expense of collecting the said duties, to be paid into 
the private exchequer of Mrs Henry Siddons, to be applied to 
the purposes of her civil list, secret service money, and so forth. 
Standing in so singular a minority on this side of the house, 
I beg leave to second my own motion, and I trust your hands 
will carry it nem. con. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — As this is very probably the last 
time but one I shall ever have the honour of appearing before 
you on a similar occasion, I had intended to have troubled you 
with a few words on that very interesting subject, to me, my- 
self; but as it is growing late, I will reserve them for my last 
dying speech and confession, only assuring you that I value 
your good opinion too highly, too justly, to forfeit it by neglect- 
ing any exertion in your service our resources will permit; and I 
confidently hope that the arrangements of the ensuing season 
will not deprive me of that approbation which has been my 
support and reward through twenty years of anxiety and 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 47 

fatigue. I sincerely thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for the 
indulgence with which you have listened to me, and once more 
respectfully take my leave. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
June 26, 1830. 
delivered by mr kemble. 
{Benefit of Miss F. Kemble.) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — This being the last night of the 
theatrical season, I am deputed by Mrs Henry Siddons, in the 
absence of her brother, to make you the accustomed farewell 
address. Lest Mr Murray's absence, from one or two surmises 
which have reached me, may be imputed, if not to neglect, at 
least to carelessness of public opinion, I am induced, on behalf 
of my friend, to appeal to the candour and equity of those 
whom I have now the honour of addressing, and who will, if 
necessary, lend a willing ear to his vindication. The truth 
is, Mr Murray's health has been for some time declining, 
and in so alarming a degree, that his best friends saw no 
remedy but in an entire change of habits, and total re- 
laxation from business. So great, however, was poor Murray's 
repugnance to " quit the post assigned him here," that nothing 
but Mrs Siddons' conviction that the preservation of his life 
might depend upon his compliance with their wishes, could 
induce him to yield to the advice of his physicians, or the 
more anxious entreaties of sisterly love, — combined, however, 
they prevailed, and I have now the satisfaction of informing 
his friends and the public, that he is considerably recovered, 
and that the first use which he has made of returning health 
has been to devote himself with all the ardour, which you 
know he possesses, to the projected improvements of this 
establishment, under the new patent ; to the renovation 
of the scenery and wardrobes ; to the engagement of the 
most distinguished talent which is to be procured; and, 
in short, to every other circumstance which may contribute 
and render the Edinburgh Theatre worthy of that galaxy of 
beauty, and the host of talent and of rank, which I now see 
before me. Your applause convinces me, that, on this 
point, I need say no more, and that the man, whom I am 



48 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

happy to call my friend, has been, in your opinion, fully 
justified. The season has been, upon the whole, a satisfactory, 
though not a very profitable one; and I am enjoined by Mrs 
Siddons to return you her best thanks for the patronage which 
has made it so, together with her heartfelt acknowledgments 
of all your goodness to her during the long period of the now 
expiring patent. She begs me to assure you, that while she 
exists that goodness will be remembered by her with emotions 
of the sincerest regard and most profound respect. The 
company, ladies and gentlemen, entertain a lively sense of 
the encouragement which their various talents have received 
from you during the season ; and though the last, not the 
least sensible of the debt they owe for the highly distinguished 
reception which they have met with in Edinburgh, my daughter 
and I beg to record our grateful testimony of your extreme 
kindness and liberality. And now, ladies and gentlemen, 
with united wishes for your general health and prosperity, in 
the well known lines of a bard, not less endeared to English 
than to Scottish hearts, I most respectfully take my leave : — 

" To all, to each, a fair good night, 
And pleasing dreams and slumbers light." 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 

November 17, 1830. 

spoken by miss jarman. 

The Weekly Journal says, " We want room for inserting the 
whole of this address, but have unspeakable pleasure in making 
the following brief, but memorable quotation : — 
" So much for foreign policy ; at home, 
While thro' the ever-changing scene we roam, 
As o'er the miror of our mimic art, 
Nightly we come, like shadows so depart ; 
If this be certain, as we onward pass, 
Nor word nor deed impure shall stain the glass. 
Dulness we may be guilty of, but our stage 
War to the knife with every vice shall wage ; 
Nor in the brilliant temple of the Nine, 
Shall tainted incense e'er pQlute the shrine." 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 49 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
June 4, 1831. 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — Gladly escaping from the ab- 
surdities of Master Lackaday, I present myself before you in my 
own character, appearing, as my legal friends would say, for 
my own interest, to thank my kind patrons for the support 
they have afforded me since I commenced my present arduous 
undertaking. This evening will terminate the first season 
of the new patent — a season which has fought its way 
through a period of excitement and agitation, extremely 
prejudicial to all places of public amusement, and particularly 
so to theatres — yet I believe, and I make the statement very 
gratefully, that the Edinburgh Theatre has weathered the 
storm as well, if not better, than most of its contemporaries, 
It may not have equalled my expectations, but the past gives 
me no fears for the future. One season cannot make nor 
mar a patent ; and though the winter voyage has been a 
rough one, I have the prospect of a very pleasant summer 
trip before me, in a tight little vessel, well-manned and 
rigged, and Captain Yates shall find, that although long 
accustomed to command, I will take my turn before the 
mast willingly and honestly. The length of the amusements 
this evening renders me unwilling to trespass upon your 
patience ; but as it may be considered the first occasion on 
which I have appeared before you officially as patentee of 
the Edinburgh Theatre, I am unwilling to lose the oppor- 
tunity of publicly offering my thanks to those gentlemen to 
whom, next to yourselves, I owe the appointment. I say 
next to yourselves, for I am well aware that had I not been 
honoured with your confidence, had you not received my hum- 
ble efforts in your service with favour and applause, private 
interest would have availed me nothing with the distinguished 
characters to whom the disposal of the patent was entrusted. 
I assure you that I am deeply impressed with a sense of what 
I owe to the public and to the assignees, and trust my con- 
duct will prove the sincerity of this declaration. I shall em- 
ploy all the leisure my new manager will allow me in making 
such preparations for the next winter season as may merit a 
continuation of your patronage ; and during the vacation, we 
propose several alterations in the interior of this theatre, tend- 
E 



50 FAREWELL ADDRES3ES. 

iug, I hope, to your comfort and increased accommodation. 
Ladies and gentlemen, again thanking you, both in my own 
name, and that of the company in general, I make my bow, 
respectfully announcing that, from this evening, the Theatre- 
Royal will remain closed until Monday the 3d of October. 

COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 
October 3, 1S31. 
" Now is the summer of our discontent 
Made glorious winter ;" and, on profit bent, 
Doctors of all degrees return to town ; 
Learning resumes her rod, the law her gown, 
Flies to the House, and drags the wig well curl'd, 
As from Pandora's box, to fret the world. 
Now Madam Eve with lengthening visage sees, 
Her votaries flying the Autumnal breeze ; 
All seek the town, as rattl'ing down each glen, 
Eoar the trade- winds that fill our shops again. 
While the poor Sun, with summer's work half-dead, 
Puts his brief candle out, and walks to bed, 
We take the hint, recall our wandering corps, 
And as day closes open wide our doors. 
Our harvest needs not the bright God of Noon, 
As Falstaff says, " We're minions of the moon," — 
u Diana's Foresters," — gay lads of shade, 
Who 'neath a borrowed light pursue our trade, 
And who, like FalstafFs rogues, " sound men and true,*' 
Lighten your spirits and your pockets too. 
Since last we parted, I suppose you've been 
Changing, like your poor servants here, the scene ; 
Naples and Venice may have met your eyes, 
And Florence, sparkling 'neath Italian skies. 
Yet could these splendours, crowned by lordly Rome, 
Quite, gentle friends, eradicate Sweet Home ? 
Like that good honest laird, whom doctors drove 
From Tweed's sweet banks, o'er Europe's plains to rove. 
When safe returned, he kissed his native ground, 
His friends and relatives thronged anxious round. 
M Well, tell us, Sandy, where, man, hae ye been, 
What mountains clambered, and what cities seen ? " 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 5t 

M Why, truly, neighbours, I've not much to tell, 

I've been'to Paris, liked it pretty well ; 

At Brussels, Berlin, and a place they ca' — 

Hoot — hoot — a brig of Earn, man — the spa. 

Seen Mount Vesuvius, rising from afar, 

Like a huge dandy smoking his cigar ; 

But love of home no foreign land enfeebles-— 

Paris — oh, fie ! for pleasure give me Peebles." 

Then let us hope the same kind feeling sends 

Back to these walls unchanged, unchanging friends. 

You will acknowledge, since we closed our doors, 

We have not idly slept upon our oars, 

For, since the fashion now is reformation, 

We have been busy too with alteration ; 

Allowing room for fully six feet men ; 

Restored the price of votes of schedule P, 

And, in return, sent back to schedule G 

For boxes, ta'en from upper schedule B. 

All has been done our time, our means, could do ; 

Approval rests, my lords and gents., with you. 

Our bill, with its amendments, we submit 

To you, dread boxes, gallery, and pit ! 

Assured an honest sentence we shall meet, 

Though every member here has paid his seat. 

So to end all debate, i' faith here goes 

To find which carries it, the " ayes," or " noes." 

You'll own I'm speaker, (though, when bent on riot, 

The speaker couldn't keep you quiet). 

Suppose me seated, — while upon the ear 

Burst cries of " question ! " mixed with " Hear, hear, hear ! "" 

The wordy battle rends the heated air, 

I call to " order," you cry " Chair, chair, chair ! " 

At length my lungs official still the mass, 

With " Is't your pleasure that the bill do pass ? " 

You that approve, applaud, and you shall save it — 

Not a dissentient murmur — the ayes have it. 



52 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

July 28, 1832. 

The all prevailing passion of the age 

Is " something new," both on and off the stage. 

The cry is " novelty," — so, stay your laughter, 

Whilst in compliance with the wish, and after 

Many a stale unprofitable year, 

I state, as something new, I now appear, 

For a successful manager, let me say, 

Is a great novelty in the present day. 

When a Post Captain first I took command 

Upon the quarter-deck, where now I stand, 

The gallant ship refitted, spread the sail, 

Gave all her spreading canvass to the gale, 

And for a time the watchword was " all's well." 

But who the turn of fortune's wheel can tell ? 

Dark storms arose — we found 'twas easier then 

To hoist a sail, than take it in again. 

Around, the waves of party swelled on high, 

Above, her vivid lightnings scared the sky ; 

We "scudded" "wore" then tried, but all in vain — 

Under bare poles we stagger'd o'er the main, 

Till the Reform Bill, in one peal of thunder, 

Swept o'er our mimic bark, and sent us under. 

We rose again, 'tis true, but a mere wreck, 

Sails, yards, and cordage, strewed the shattered deck ; 

So, " helm a-port," we quickly bore away, 

Bringing the vessel up in Shakespeare Bay. 

Tho' many hundred pounds the worse for wear, 

111 luck was never mended by despair. 

We therefore made the good ship tight and yare — 

Widened the state-rooms, and between declcs too, 

Knock'd down some bulk heads, which annoyed the crew. 

Then, under vieigh again, the master said, 

" Sky thick and greasy still, sir, squalls a-head." 

" What then, my heart — in dock we cannot tarry, 

I'll show no sail but what I know she'll carry. 

When in our teeth the adverse tempest raves, 

We'll make all snug, then luff, and breast the waves ; 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. &6 

But when a favouring point cheers up the day, 

Let out a reef or two and edge away." 

Thus have we gained our port — dues paid, all clear — 

With something to diminish loss last year. 

Said I all dues were paid ? One duty yet 

Remains unsatisfied — the honest deht 

Of gratitude to you. Yet what to say, 

In payment of a debt, words ne'er can pay, 

I know not, save a prayer that fate may bless 

You every coming year with health — with happiness. 

So much for one concern — now for the other. 

I mean the Adelphi. There I've lost my brother — 

My partner Yates ; a manager so civil, 

Having " a tongue to wheedle with the devil." 

When first In talked of partnership, I thought it stuff, 

Deeming one theatre for one head enough ; 

But with his arguments he still'd each doubt — 

Got me fast in — and then, sly rogue, walked out. 

Still, I confess, no coward fears I feel, 

I'll boldly set my shoulder to the wheel. 

What in such times a willing heart can do, 

I'll do — and fearlessly confide in you. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
September 29, 1832. 
{Adelphi.) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — I suspect my frequent re-ap- 
pearance this evening will recall to many present the old story of 
Monsieur Tonson, and some will be tempted to exclaim, " Be 
gar, here's Monsieur Tonson come again ;" notwithstanding 
which, like my brother magistrate of the night, the worthy 
Mr Dogbury, " I can find in my heart to bestow all my 
tediousness upon you," rather than incur the charge of neglect, 
or, indeed, ingratitude, by omitting the expression of those 
thanks so justly your due. When I look around and see so 
many theatres closing their doors, or only keeping open under 
heavy losses, I cannot but feel deeply grateful to you for the 
support you have afforded to this establishment. In the pre- 
sent state of affairs, theatrical speculations remind me of an 
2 E 



54 FAREWELL ADDRESSES, 

anecdote I once heard of an old Frenchman, who was engaged 
in one of the English provincial theatres, and which, with your 
permission, I will relate. I should premise, that, in 
former times, performers were compelled by their letters 
of engagement to take what was too often very erroneously 
called benefits, the manager securing the expenses of the 
night by putting the actor under a weekly deduction of salary 
from the very commencement of the season, and continuing the 
same until the full sum was made up. This was a tax the un- 
happy Frenchman had long laboured to evade, his benefit had 
always entailed a loss which his slender finances were little able 
to contend with, but in vain was all the winning grace peculiar 
to his country expanded on the flinty heart of the manager. 
" Oh, sair, be so good, sHl voiis plait — do not let me have a 
benefice dis year. I am ruined by my benefices an oder time, 
but not dis year, sHl voas plait" " SHI vous nonsense," re- 
plied the theatrical despot. " Tis the rule, everybody in my 
company must have a benefit." The unlucky victim shrugged 
his shoulders and submitted. Bad luck now, better another 
time, was his motto ; and gradually his losses diminished, until 
one season, he was addressed by a friend — " Well, Francois, 
what sort of a benefit last night ?" " Oh, magnifique !" ex- 
claimed the delighted Frenchman, " superb, beautiful, une 
grande benefice dis year, only lose five pounds." This, 
ladies and gentlemen, is a picture of modern manage- 
ment ; and if my French friend was so enraptured at having 
lost only " five pounds," what must I feel who have not 
# lost anything. I would now, ladies and gentlemen, con- 
clude, did I not feel that I have a delicate, a painful 
duty to discharge, and in the performance of which I must 
throw myself upon your kindness and consideration. It is well 
known that, at one period, the Edinburgh theatre owed its ex- 
istence to the success of what was called " the Waverley 
Dramas," and my silence upon the recent loss our country has 
sustained might be misinterpreted. That great man, whose 
name now fills every mouth from the peer to the peasant, was 
peculiarly the object of reverential regard to the members of 
the Scottish stage ; for to the success which attended the 
dramatic adaptations from his splendid works, aided by his 
powerful influence and assistance, we owe the establishment of 
that fund, the first anniversary of which he immortalized, by 






FAREWELL ADDRESSES. OO 

declaring himself the author of Waverley ; and to which the 
poor, sick, and disabled actor, when incapacitated from fretting 
his brief hour upon the stage, can look for subsistence. To 
eulogize such a name as Sir Walter Scott's is unnecessary — 
were it, this is not the place, nor am I the person competent 
to do so ; but the moment rapidly approaches when the Edin- 
burgh theatre will seize the opportunity of testifying, by more 
than words, its respect for the memory of its illustrious bene- 
factor. Ladies and gentlemen, I respectfully take my leave. 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 

May 25, 1833. 

(Addphu) 

Actors are patent copying machines, 

And imitation forms their " ways and means ; " 

So, like the King of France, who, with his men, 

Marched up a hill, and then — marched down again, 

We down from Skakespeare to St James Square, 

To fret and strut our summer hours repair, 

Then with the winter breezes wheel around, 

Marching up hill to take our former ground ; 

Though here or there, at present I'm afraid, 

A manager is but a down-hill trade. 

As pacing Princes Street the other night, 

I heard a most extensive whiskered wight 

Thus crush my hopes — " What bill is this ? A play ! 

To stew the lieges in the month of May ; 

I hate their crowded Theatres — better, far, 
Nature's sweet breath improved with a cigar." 
Cries Mrs Wigsby, " Pri'thee, let us go 

To the Adelphi, love, and see the show." 

II Pshaw ! " grunts the pamper'd spouse, " Don't be a fool, 
Save your three shillings and enjoy the cool." 

Pouting is useless, trudge the lady must, 

Broiled in the sun, and blinded with the dust ; 

And as they tuck up Arthur's Seat together, 

He cries, " delightful walking, very charming weather."' 

Thus 'tis of Theatres, the hapless lot, 

To be in winter cold, in summer much too hot. 



56 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

In sober sadness plays are on the wane, 

For some unfashionable —some profane. 

Though foreign airs can make even this a place, 

Where a fair saint may show her serious face, 

Last winter, when Donizelli played Othello, 

A friend of mine, a merry-hearted fellow, 

Saw a precise one in the boxes sit, 

" Ah ! " cried my friend, " I'm glad to see you're bit 

By these amusements." " Sir," said the dame, 

" My thoughts of theatres are still the same ; 

Yet hold it innocent to see a play, 

When I don't understand a word they say," 

Thus foreign wares are still the ruling passion, 

Kicking poor native actors out of fashion, 

Who, hapless wretches, loose both fame and food, 

Because unluckily they're understood. 

What we at last shall come to, who shall say ? 

Year after year some gem is torn away. 

Kemble is gone, and now the tragic scene 

Bewails her latest master — Kean, 

That meteor eye — that fierce volcanic mind, 

Which revelled in the passions of mankind ; 

Spurning the bounds of art, and greatly rash ; 

'Twas nature, " reading Shakespeare by the flash 

Of the red lightning.'''' All is fled — 

All still — all silent — numbered with the dead, 

Kean sleeps beneath the monumental stone, 

And Richard, Shylock, and Othello's gone. 

As Garrick said — the painter's art may live, 

And with the poet's in their works survive 

To after ages. Nought can save 

The actors' fleeting trophies from the grave 5 

Tho' for a time your memories may keep 

Their kindly vigils where your favourite sleep, 

Yet to your children we are things unknown — 

They'll boast of Keans and Kembles of their own s 

Therefore the poor, the transitory player, 

Is surely, friends, your own peculiar care. 

From future years we nothing have in view — 

We toil not for posterity, but you. 

Then turn not from us, countrymen, but give 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 57 

Some smiles, and let the British Drama live. 
Kembles and Keans may grace the stage again, 
And thank you for your kindness to us — lesser men. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

September 26, 1834. 

(Adelphi.') 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — It is much easier to acknow- 
ledge a failure gracefully, than to return thanks in adequate 
terms for benefits conferred. An unsuccessful manager comes 
before you with such claims upon your sympathy. It is so in- 
teresting to see him standing " like patience on a monument 
smiling at grief," that the ladies exclaim "poor dear fellow, 
how well he bears it, he has really done all he can." Even the 
rougher hearts of the men relent as they acknowledge that the 
.poor devil has done all he can ; but theatres are no go now. 
While the more ancient patrons of the drama sigh over the 
weaknesses of these lattter days, and say, " Aye, aye, theatres 
are not what they were in my young days. Still it must be 
confessed that the manager has done all he can." Thus the 
unfortunate Thespian, retiring with the commiseration of all 
parties, 

u Makes a golden set, 
And by the ruddy brightness of his track, 
Gives promise of a goodly day to-morrow." 

But you, ladies and gentlemen, have deprived me of all these 
advantages. You have not left me one loop-hole to attach 
your commiseration, for every effort this season has been crowned 
with the most decided success. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I 
will tell you the difficulty I labour under — as a prudent general 
never advances till he has secured his retreat, so I always begin 
my season by composing my farewell address, and not antici- 
pating any extraordinary success from the summer, I had con- 
cocted a very fair sort of speech, comprising " fervent gratitude," 
" look forward to better times," " respectfully adieu," &c. &c. 
&c. ; but what was my astonishment when, at the end of the 
very first week of our season, the treasurer declared a balance 
in favour. Had I three ears I could have heard him. I 
doubted ; but, flying to the treasury chambers, there was the 



58 FAREWELL ADDRESSES . 

" balance." I could scarcely credit my eyes, and exclaimed with 

Macbeth, 

" Is this a balance which I see before me, 

And ready to my hand ; come let me clutch thee." 

I did so, it was no " creation of the heat oppressed brain," but 
a bonafde display of hard cash ; and I walked forth with all 
the complacency of a man who is entitled to tack to his name 
the honorary abbreviations of L. S. D., " being the Roman 
initials for pounds, shillings, and pence." Still, being afflicted 
with a considerable preponderance of what the phrenologists 
term cautiousness, like my friend Long Tom, I continued to 
look out for squalls. But no squalls came — our course was un- 
clouded ; and as the season advanced, " the balance " 

" Grew with its growth, and strengthened with its strength," 
until it makes a most respectable figure in the ledger ; but 
then, ladies and gentlemen, though I have gained my balance, 
I have lost my speech — a very fair speech for an ordinary 
season, but totally unworthy of one which jour patronage has 
rendered so triumphant. 

In this unfurnished state was I coming before you, when 
suddenly a pfece of paper caught my eye, I picked it up and 
found it labelled, " Report of the Select Committee, appointed 
by the Honourable the Patrons of the A del phi Theatre, to in- 
quire into, and report upon, the present state of that establish- 
ment." Now, as this said report appears to be very accurately 
drawn up, it may supply the place of my defunct speech, and I 
will, with your kind permission, read it : — 

" It appears to your committee that the manager of the 
Adelphi Theatre, with that laudable attention to his own in- 
terest for which gentlemen of his craft are distinguished, has, 
throughout the season, made considerable exertions to obtain 
the approbation of this honourable house. Upon a strict ex- 
amination of the bills, your committee find, that, during a 
season of sixteen weeks, there have been rehearsed and per- 
formed three tragedies, eight plays, seven operas, twelve bur- 
lettas, fourteen melo-dramas, seventeen farces, nine interludes, 
and eight ballets and pantomimes, added to a multitude of songs, 
dances, and other intermediate amusements, the enumeration 
of which would only fatigue the attention of this honourable 
house. But they may be permitted to remark, that out of the 
above list of entertainments, twenty have been entirely new to 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 59 

the Edinburgh stage ; and, as a further proof of the unwearied 
zeal and activity of all connected with this establishment, your 
committee feel bound to state that, during the ninety-six nights 
of the season, the number of separate acts which have been 
performed amount to six hundred and sixty-one, averaging 
nearly seven on each night of performance. But while your 
committee willingly acknowledge this unremitted labour, they 
must remark that it has been more than repaid by the liberality 
of the Honourable the Patrons — the receipts considerably ex- 
ceeding those of any former season. Upon this point your 
committee most strictly examined the manager, and though 
they must remark that they found him particularly shy in 
showing his books, yet he acknowledged his success in very 
warm terms, and appeared siucerely grateful for the kindness 
he had experienced from this honourable house. The performers 
also, from the dignified exclusive who confines his exertions to 
one range of characters, to the humble utilitarian who makes 
his exit in company with the tables and chairs, all participated 
in the same feeling, and expressed their delight at the manner 
in which their patrons had received and rewarded their efforts 
to amuse. 

" Your committee have nothing further to remark, save that, 
having learned that all disputes between the manager and the 
trustees of the Theatre-Royal have been referred to arbitration, 
they respectfully, and for the want of a better, recommend the 
said manager to the continued support of the honourable patrons 
of the drama, feeling that Mr Murray may ground his claim to 
public approbation upon the acknowledged principle, that ' bad 
is the best.' " 

Allow me now, ladies and gentlemen, to move that this re- 
port be received and approved ; and to assure you that it but 
speaks the truth, when it states both manager and actor as 
truly grateful for the liberal support you have honoured us with 
throughout the season. 

To this I must add my thanks — a very inadequate return, I 
confess — for the honour you have conferred upon me as an indi- 
vidual. Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot do justice to my feelings 
for your constant kindness, and request you will pardon any 
deficiency. It is my intention to open the Theatre-Royal in 
November next ; until when, with the truest wishes for your 
health and happiness, I respectfully take my leave. 



C>0 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
May 1, 1835. 

( Theatre-Royal.) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — Let an actor say what he 
pleases, or affect what ease of manner he can, it is a nervous 
thing to address an audience — to address you, ladies and 
gentlemen — in good set terms, deliberately, or, as a lawyer 
would say, with " malice prepense ;" and I certainly never re- 
member presenting myself before you under feelings of greater 
apprehension than I do at the present moment; for if the 
merits of a manager's " farewell " should bear any proportion 
to the success of the season it tolls the knell of, this ought to 
be the best speech manager ever made, and yet I fear it 
threatens to be the worst ; for, like the Irishman who declared 
that he never tried to chuck himself up heads, that he didn't 
come down tails, I never was so liable to failure as when most 
anxious to succeed. That such is my unlucky tendency, I can 
prove by the relation of an anecdote connected with that pride 
and ornament of the British stage — the great Mrs Siddons ; 
and though the said anecdote will tell pretty considerably 
against your humble servant, yet as it may serve to amuse you, 
my kind friends, you shall even have the laugh against me. 
Mrs Siddons was one evening, within these very walls, perform- 
ing Queen Catherine in Shakespeare's Henry VIII., a specimen 
of her transcendent talents, which many now before me will 
remember with admiration and delight. I had the honour of 
representing the secretary Cromwell upon that occasion, and 
in the fourth act, when I relate to the sick Queen the death of 
Cardinal Wolsey, I had the happiness to gain your approba- 
tion. The next morning I received a note from Mrs Siddons 
requesting me to call upon her. I did so : she complimented 
me upon the performance of the preceding evening ; but added, 
that, she thought, my manner of delivering the death of 
Wolsey might be improved, and that, if I had no objection, 
she would read it to me. I need not say, ladies and gentle- 
men, how gratefully I accepted her kind offer ; and I am sure 
I need not tell an Edinburgh audience that Mrs Siddons' 
elocution was the very perfection of the art. To proceed — 
three nights after the play was repeated, and conning my 
lesson, I anticipated a splendid triumph, calculating, at least, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 61 

upon three rounds of applause for every former one. The play 
commenced — the scene approached — the moment came — not 
certainly " big with the fate of Cato and of Rome," but "big 
with the fate of Murray and his speech'' 1 — when, just as I was 
on the point of commencing, I saw the dying Queen turn her- 
self comfortably round in her arm-chair, and bending her full, 
dark, and majestic eyes upon me, prepare to enjoy my 
triumph. Oh, ladies and gentlemen, as my friend Lloyd says 
in " Married Life," — "Oh them eyes." The recollection of 
the splendid effects she had produced when reading the passage 
clapped an extinguisher upon my unhappy speech, and my 
anticipated thunders of applause evaporated in a death-like 
silence, only broken by the following fatal sounds from her 
majesty — " Very bad indeed." Thus upon the present occa- 
sion, when I would " call spirits from the vasty deep " to aid 
in the expression of my thanks, I fear a failure, and dread a 
repetition of those death-dealing words— "very bad indeed" 
Yet do not, pray do not impute my failure to any want 
of gratitude. After four years of labour, anxiety, and loss, I 
stand before the friends and patrons who have freed me from 
all difficulties ; and I must solicit them to increase the debt I 
owe them, by imagining those feelings of gratitude which, upon 
my honour, I have not at the present moment words to express. 
The success of this season has a double claim upon my 
gratitude, for it will very probably terminate the unpleasant 
disputes which have so long existed between me and the 
trustees of Mrs Henry Siddons. It has enabled me to with- 
draw my claim for a reduction of rent ; and that bone of con- 
tention removed, I hope all other differences may yet be 
amicably adjusted. 

Ladies and gentlemen, — I trust my arrangements for the 
summer season will meet a continuation of your favour and 
support. You need not fear my diligence. Ladies and gentle- 
men, I have some little friends at home who are excellent anti- 
dotes to idleness ; but, were I, like Bob Acres, a bachelor, and 
paid the tax, I could need no spur in the service of such kind, 
such liberal masters and mistresses as those before me. Ladies 
and gentlemen, again and again I thank you for the success of 
this season ; and hoping soon to meet you in that temple of 
mirth and song, the Adelphi, I, in my own name, and in 



62 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

that of my brother performers, gratefully and respectfully 
take my leave. 

COMMENCEMENT OF *THE SEASON. 
May 30, 1835. 
(Adelphi.) 
As planets through the realms of ether flow, 
So travel, daily, newspapers below ; 
With the whole chit-chat of all Europe fraught, 
From the Land's End they fly to John o' Groat's. 
And of that mortal planet sad's the fate, 
Who bumps 'gainst comets of " the Fourth Estate." 
Touch but the tail, it sets you in a blaze, 
For tails are ticklish members now-a-days. 
Heads were of value once, but now we see, 
Taught by comparative anatomy, 
The use of tails at an extremity, 
Our statesmen choosing parties to assist 'em 
Composed of men on the Monboddo system, 
The Thanes of Cauda, who most potently 
Wag their dependent vertebrae. 
In short, if any doubt the power of tail, 
Visit St Stephens or the great north whale. 
But to return — in newspapers you'll find 
Food for the ruling tastes of all mankind. 
" The ring," " 'Change Alley," last new ministry, 
Gas, winds, political consistency, 
The last election, ballot for committee, 
Unredeemed pledges, auction in the city, 
These fix the husband ; but my lady goes 
To metal more attractive, well she knows 
Advertisements like swallows herald spring, 
And as the days increase the columns ring 
With " Fresh arrivals of cheap cotton goods/* 
"Silks," " Ayrshire needle-work," " Merinoes," " Hoods." 
Across the breakfast-table madam calls — 
" Blackwood, my dear, has got some India shawls, 
And Mr William Pike, 8 Hunter Square, 
Some printed muslins fit for summer wear, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 63 

All bought on advantageous money terms, 

In manufacturing towns, from manufacturing firms." 

Her fatter half, who little heeded her, 

Lights on the words " Adelphi theatre," 

And reads, " the manager has just come down 

With a few fancy articles from town, 

Fast colours, warranted to please at sight — ■ 

And look extremely well — by candle light. 

Added to these new members of the sock 

Remain some portion of the winter stock, 

Stout, lasting patterns, which have never cloyed, 

Miss Newton, Nicol, Stanley, Barker, Lloyd, 

Alias Jack Rag, in which the merry knave 

Gained far more credit than he ever gave. 

Murray then stakes his firm determination 

To labour hard for public approbation ; 

Concluding with the usual statement — 

Small profits — ready money — no abatement." 

Like other traders, I must do my best, 

To puff my articles, and for a jest 

Flourish my penny trumpet with the rest. 

Forgive my doggrels — spare the faultering line, 

Not for its merits, but for auld langsyne. 

Some read Othello's visage in his mind, 

I will reverse the plan, and hope to find 

Your minds are in your faces. You look so kind, 

And ever have done — pray don't alter 

To an old servant — 'till he prove defaulter. 

And if you'll take my own security, 

I'll pledge it, trusting that futurity 

Will prove your manager has nought in view 

But making money — first, by just pleasing you. 

Then let your hands support my mimic rule, 

Till time, like Banquo's ghost, shall push me from my stool. 



64 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
September 18, 1835. 
(Adelphi.) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — Many years have passed since 
I first took the liberty of paying my addresses to you, and 
though I fear that the tone of them may appear at times a 
little egotistical, I cannot resist the temptation they throw in 
my way of once or twice a-year casting aside the trappings of 
the actor, and in my own person gratefully acknowledge those 
favours which you so liberally bestow on me. Many of my 
brother managers veil the seductive pronoun / beneath the 
more majestic we, under which they open their valedictory 
trenches, and so bombard the ears of their auditors with what 
" we have done — the pieces we have brought forward — the un- 
precedented expenses we have incurred— and the incredible 
exertions .we have made in the service of a liberal and 
enlightened public," that the said public cannot, in common 
civility, do less than repay the multitudinous manager with re- 
peated shouts of enthusiastic approbation, and unanimously 
vote the aforesaid u we" to be one of the cleverest individuals 
in his profession. In the great national theatres, where 
business is conducted by a cabinet as numerous as that of St 
James', and where the premier is as difficult to get a sight of 
as the comet, the regal " we " is allowable ; but here, ladies 
and gentlemen, where it is well known that I am "Jove in his 
chair, of the shy Lord Mayor," a compendium of the legisla- 
tive and executive, the very head and front of my own offend- 
ing, such magniloquence would be absurd, and I therefore come 
before you in all the insignificance of my own individuality, 
and offer you my sincere and grateful thanks for the great 
success which has crowned this season ; a success exceeding 
my own expectations, and which must have realised even your 
kindest wishes. During the years I have had the honour of 
conducting your theatrical amusements, I have known all the 
lights and shadows of managerial life ; and often, when stand- 
ing on the very verge of bankruptcy, has the dark fiend despair 
tempted me as he did poor Launcelot Gobbo, and whispered at 
my elbow, " Murray, manager, Murray, good manager, or good 
Murray, or good manager Murray, use your legs, take the 
start and run away." But "my conscience, hanging about the 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 65 

neck of my heart, said very wisely to me — badge not ; and my 
friend and patron, Mr John Kemble, re-echoed budge not — 
adding, my dear fellow, never despair, something will start up, 
a great actor or a great elephant, or a transparency ^f Lord 
Rodney." I said, " dear sir, what do you mean by a trans- 
parency of Lord Rodney ?" He smiled, and told me the follow- 
ing anecdote : — A provincial manager whose season had been 
extremely disastrous, determined to make one grand effort to 
retrieve his fortunes, and announced a new and splendid 
nautical spectacle, which was to terminate with a view of 
the British fleet, and a magnificent transparency of Lord 
Rodney. Public curiosity was excited by the unusual effort, 
and at an early hour the bouse was crammed. The play com- 
menced, and the new spectacle was to conclude the evening. 
Eut, alas ! the artist from whose creative pencil all the scenic 
magnificence was to spring was one more addicted to his glass 
than his palette, and as yet, Lord Rodney and the British fleet 
existed only in the " mind's eye " of the distracted manager. 
Time flew — the play proceeded, and yet no fleet — no admiral. 
Never did the famished garrison of Gibralter, in the memor- 
able 1780, pant for the arrival of the gallant Rodney with 
more anxiety than did our hapless manager. But in vain — 
word was brought that the incorrigible painter was — pardon 
the expression — drunk in bed, and nothing remained but to 
state the facts, and, ruinous catastrophe, return the money. 
In this moment of agony, the factotum of the principal 
butcher in the town presented himself, and said — " Well, 
measter manager, master has heard of your house turning out 
so well to-night, and has sent me to ax payment of this here 
little account," unrolling a bill of some six and thirty inches 
long. Now, ladies and gentlemen, it is necessary that you 
should be told that this same applicant was in figure the pro- 
totype of Falstaff, in face, a facsimile of Bardolph — every 
feature distented and illuminated with good eating, good drink- 
ing, and good humour; he was, moreover, a great wit, and a 
universal favourite in the town. " Come, measter manager," 
repeats the jolly butcher, " as the house has turned out so well 
to-night." " Don't talk of turning out," groaned the manager, 
" they are going to turn out 

The cloud capt gallery, the gorgeous boxes, 
The great pit itself, 
2 F 



66 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Yea all which it inherit will turn out, 
And asking for their money at the doors, 
Leave not a pound behind." 

At this moment the eye of the despairing manager rested upon 
the blazing and good humoured visage of the butcher, a ray of 
hope darted across him, he dragged his victim into an adjoining 
dressing room — a guinea and a bottle of wine settled his busi- 
ness. The butcher was decked in an admiral's uniform. An 
old cocked hat stuck upon his head, a sword in his hand, and 
placed behind a row of canvass water, like a kit-cat portrait, 
with a ship stuck on each side of him, was my friend the but- 
cher presented to the expecting audience as the transparency 
of Lord Rodney. The gods recognising their fat friend, cheered 
him to the very echo. The manager seized the lucky moment, 
rushed on and stated the facts. All was mirth and good 
humour — no money returned. The next morning the painter 
was at his post. The fleet and Lord Rodney were finished, the 
piece ran seventeen nights, and saved the season. After this 
anecdote, ladies and gentlemen, I never have despaired — I never 
will. With thanks for the past, I will continue to strain 
every nerve in the execution of my duty, and trust the future 
to you, and my noble and transparent friend Lord Rodney. 
To my own thanks, I am requested to add those of every mem- 
ber of the company, and, until November next, we respectfully 
bid you farewell. 

COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 
November 7, 1835. 
( Theatre-Royal?) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — May I be allowed to construe the 
applause with which you have so kindly received me, as evincing 
your approval of the experiment I have this evening com- 
menced. I own that I anticipated this division, for while I 
have received many letters commendatory of the change, but 
one has reached me condemning it, and that only upon the 
principle that it was likely to fill the theatre before the writer 
could leave his office.? -Now, though these are not the times in 
which the manager of a theatre can afford to lose a single friend, 
I cannot regret, or hastily consent to alter an arrangement likely 
to produce so dearable an event. But if the writer will oblige 
f 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 67 

me by making the trial, I suspect he will very frequently find 
more room than he wants, or I either. I thank you, ladies 
and gentlemen, for the approbation with which you have 
honoured the amusement of this evening ; and from the engage- 
ments I have been enabled to form, I trust that not a week of 
the present season will pass unenlivened by the production of 
some novelty, or the appearance of some star of metropolitan 
magnitude. Ladies and gentlemen, the patronage you have 
honoured me with renders every exertion on my part a debt 
due to you ; and be assured, I will endeavour to discharge that 
debt with zeal and fidelity. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

June 21, 1836. 

(Theatre-Royal.) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — The final dropping of the cur- 
tain this evening will balance accounts with us for the winter 
season, and, in laying the annual statement before you, I gladly 
acknowledge Murray and Company debtors to Messrs Box, 
Pit, and Galleries, for a very successful campaign. When I 
commenced my labours, I adventured upon the somewhat 
hazardous experiment of reducing the prices of admittance, at 
the same time pledging myself that the said reduction should 
not deteriorate the style of our amusements ; and if you will 
oblige me by casting a retrospective glance upon the season, 
and recollect that, during its progress, Sheridan Knowles, the 
first dramatist of the day, and one well worthy of a brighter 
• era in our dramatic literature, has been before you, accompanied 
by his fair and talented pupil, Miss Elphinstone. When you 
consider that to these succeeded your native melodists, Sinclair 
and Wilson, followed by that sparkling gem of the sister isle, 
Power — that model of a British seaman, Cooke — and last, not 
least, your own Kean — when to such a host of talent you add 
the exertions of De Begnis and his Italian company, varied by 
the production of a very successful pantomime, and other novel- 
ties, aided by all that dress or scenery could bestow, I hope 
you will allow that I have redeemed my pledge. I have re- 
solved to adhere to the existing arrangement during the sum- 
mer, convinced, that if at any time I find that the reduction 



68 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

militates against my forming such a resident company, or the 
engagement of such occasional visitors as you are entitled to 
expect, you will allow me to amend my libel, and add and eik 
by resuming the first and second prices as formerly. On Satur- 
day next, ladies and gentlemen, I hope to have the honour of 
opening the Adelphi to you, which I trust you will find 
deserving of your continued patronage *, for I assure you that no 
expense or exertion has been spared in preparing it for your recep- 
tion. You will meet most of your old-established favourites, for 
when I go farther, I frequently fare worse ; though I shall from 
time to time take the liberty of introducing some new candidates 
for your favour. I know the general demand for novelty ; but, 
in the recruiting department, my difficulties increase as the 
London theatres multiply. When I started in management, 
there were about six open nightly ; there are now, I believe, 
seven-and-twenty. Add to which, the American manager 
drains us terribly. No sooner do we poor manufacturers work 
the raw material into something like Richard, Shylock, or 
Othello, then off it goes for the foreign market — and on we go, 
like the witches in Macbeth, 

" Double, double, toil and trouble, 

Fire bum and cauldron bubble ; 

Cooking up actors, who 

Come like shadows, so depart." 
Still I do not despair ; and, if my summer efforts meet half the 
approbation you have so liberally bestowed upon my winter 
labours I shall be more than rewarded, and shall then, as I do 
now, beg you to accept the sincere thanks of your obliged and 
grateful servant. 

COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 

June 25, 1836. 

{Adelphi.') 

Like the poor chrysalis, who with the spring 
Bursts from the web, and tries its golden wing, 
Man doffs his macintosh, and now is seen 
In all the yellow radiance of nankeen. 
Warmed by the sun, he thinks not of the day 
When credit ceases, and 'tis time to pay, 
But bnvg the silken sock and well-turned shoe, 






FAREWELL ADDRESSES. G9 

Dips into Williams' for a new surtout, 

Mounts a drab castor, furnished by Mackay, 

And blazes forth the perfect butterfly ; 

But thus equipped, the insect shuns the walls 

Which kindly sheltered him from winter squalls, 

Deserts the theatre and concert rooms, 

Whose glittering gas dispelled December's gloom. 

But not alone the sparkling ingrates go, 

The love-sick damsel follows faithless beau ; 

Pa and mama must swell the vast migration, 

Leaving behind a perfect desolation. 

And yet not perfect till the courts arise, 

W T hen from her house of call Astra?a flies — 

That day, when formerly the macers flew 

Forth to the Outer-House with loud halloo, 

When writers — clerks — nay, counsel — joined the rout, 

And pokes, dust, stones, and sand-bags flew about ; 

AVhen e'en a judge was seen the joys to share, 

Hurling his wig in the astonished air, 

Till some revolving ink-stand having shed 

Its tide on his emancipated head 

The thing was voted a contempt of court, 

And with the fatal ink-stand fill the sport ; 

For a sederunt " sixteen sixty-three" 

For ever crushed the unhallowed revelry. 

Naught remains of customs once so famous, 

Save the last festival, the Gaudtamus. 

That done, judge, juryman, and learned brother, 

All leave the town — all follow one another ; 

And thus each year, 'till winter winds restore 'em, 

Auld Reekie makes her " Cesslo Bonorum" 

If I might venture, friends, to parody 

A verse or two of Gray's famed elegy, 

Thus would I sing in imitative strains 

The loneliness which then around us reigns : — 



The year has toll'd the knell of fashion's day. 
And all her children seek the azure sea ; 

E'en the Lord Provost, too, has flown away, 
And left the town to solitude and me. 



70 FAREWELL ADDRESSED 

Now fade the glittering throng from Princes Street,, 

And Charlotte Square a solemn stillness holds, 
Save when a doctor in his gig we meet 

Scenting a fever or a few stray colds — 
Save when you hear some moping judge complain 

Of cruel fate which keeps him from the hills^ 
And makes him most reluctantly remain 

An ordinary lord upon the bills. 
Though where the people go to when they roam 

Would puzzle Newton. For, I'll lay a crown, 
Visit the poles, there's no-body " at home" 

Or try the tropics, and there u out of town" 
You smile, but search Great Britain round about, 

From north to south, or where you please begin. 
Depend on't you'll find every body out, 

And ministers the only people in r 
In such a case, to play or not to play r 
That was the question — so I asked one day 
A friend, on whose opinion I relied, 
What should I do ? He listened and replied — 
" Good Mr Manager dispel all doubt, 
If folks are not at home they must be out ; 
And being out, must needs, I think, go somewhere i 
Open the Adelphi, and perchance they'll come there.'* 
Upon this hint, I sought my Thespian boat, 
Repaired the good old craft r and got afloat. 
Look round the vessel — all that meets your view ? 
Aloft, between decks, and the cock-pit too, 
Has been the work of seven weeks ; not one 
Shrunk from his labour till the whole was done \ 
From first to last all honest in the cause 
To make the good ship worthy your applause. 
This night, re-rigged and manned, we hoist the sail,. 
Giving our mimic canvass to the gale ; 
Smile on our humble efforts, nor refuse 

Your kind assistance to our summer cruise. [yare.** 

Is all prepared ? (Voice within) — l< Aye, aye, Sir, tigbt and 
Then, carpenter, let go the painter there. 
Now, friends, three cheers to waft us from the shore. 
Lads in the main-top-gallants— (to the galleries) —one cheer 






FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 71 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October H, 1836. 

Before the commencement of the performances, Mr Murray 
delivered the following 

APOLOGETICAL ADDRESS, IX THE CHARACTER OF PAUL PRY. 

(AdetphL) 

I hope I don^t intrude? I've just dropp'd in 

To ask one question ere the sports begin. 

What do you think of " the attempt" to-night ? 

I think friend Murray dares too high a flight. 

An actor may triumphant wend his way 

Through the dramatic trifles of the day ; 

I may, as " Old Foozle," approbation gain, 

Or, as " The Schoolmaster" applause obtain ; 

As " Simpson" " Dominique" and * Gabios^ too, 

(The veteran of an hundred years or two ;) 

Or casting off the silver locks of age, 

As " Mr Tomkins" stagger o^er the stage, 

With shouts of " bravo, bravo." But, alack ! 

Whene'er he buckles " Falstaff*' on his back, 

The hapless wight may find his tether run, 

Soaring, like Icarus, too near the sun, 

His borrowed plumes give way, and down he goes 

Much lower than the point from which he rose ; 

And thus conceit, the laurels gained before 

Loses in vain attempt to make them more. 

I urged all tbis to Murray. He replied, 

u I know the attempt a bold one, but confide 

In those who, from a boy, have cheer' d me on, 

And made me all I am, so, Paul, begone." 

Hast thou not read how Peter, often beat 

By Charles the Twelfth, learned victory from defeat. 

So, should I fail, from failure will I learn 

How to amend, and conquer in my turn ; 

The embryo effort of to-night repair, 

And lick my cub into a perfect bear. 

I wish, by progress, in my art to merit 

The smiles of those from whom I all inherit. 



72 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

With such kind friends my fate I gladly trust, 
Whate'er their sentence be, it will be just. 
So leave me now, — there goes the Prompter's bell, 
Would it were bed-time, Paul, and all were well. 
Thus having said and done all man could do, 
I left him to a task I fear he'll rue, 
And trust the Manager to mercy and to you. 
At the end cf the Play : — 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — Ungrateful as the assertion may 
sound, I freely confess that I never appeared before you more 
unwillingly than I do on the present occasion. The times 
have been, when fortune frowned, that I, with many others of 
my trade, hailed the termination of a season, as a pause from 
loss, as well as labour, exclaiming, with Young, in his " Night 
Thoughts" — 

" Fate drop the curtain — I can lose no more." 
But now so liberal is your patronage, and so uninterrupted the 
success which has attended the various novelties we have laid 
before you, that I most reluctantly discontinue my depredations 
upon your pockets. But stern necessity brings me to a close. 
My actors and my novelties are alike exhausted. Melo-drama, 
Prelude, Interlude, Pantomime, Comedietta, Farcetta, Operetta, 
and Burletta, have been showered forth in such plentiful abun- 
dance, that our summer stock ha* evaporated ; 

" And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, 
Left not one farce behind." 

I have, therefore, no alternative but to wind up my accounts, 
and, with an honest and grateful heart, thank you for the suc- 
cess of a season, which, though the last, is by no means the 
least among the good ones your kindness has favoured me 
with. 

Very thankful for the past, I own that I entertain consider- 
able anxiety for the future. Comedians are getting very dear, 
like coals, and so great is the demand in the foreign market for 
both commodities, that unless Government will lay some heavy, 
nay, almost prohibitory duty, upon the exportation of these ne- 
cessaries of life, actors and coals, our winters will shortly pass 
unenlivened by either a good play or a good fire. Should any 
honourable member of St Stephen's Chapel be present, I most 
respectfully, but earnestly press this melancholy fact upon his 



FAREWELL ADDRL 73 

attention. Trusting that my humble efforts to cater for your 
amusement may be aided by some legislative enactment of this 
sort, I will not despair of meeting your wishes for next winter. 
The Theatre-Royal has been greatly improved during the recess ; 
and will be entirely repainted before the commencement of the 
season. All your old favourites will be found at their posts ; 
and in the recruiting department no labour shall be spared in 
procuring for your amusement such talent as may yet linger on 
this side of the Atlantic, and can be won from the nume- 
rous theatres of the metropolis. And now, ladies and gentle- 
men, one word for my brethren behind the curtain. Of their 
abilities, it does not become me to speak, but in proof of their 
zeal and industry, let it be remembered that in a season of 
ninety-six nights we have produced thirty- six new pieces, 
being at the rate of more than one for every third evening. 
They beg, by me, to return thanks for the kindness with which 
you have rewarded their efforts ; for I am sure you will be 
happy to hear that the benefits have proved no exception to the 
general success of the season. All have been profitable. 

Ladies and gentlemen, I have no wish to cast any damp 
upon the kind and cheerful feeling which has pervaded this 
evening ; but I cannot pass over in silence the great loss which 
our profession has sustained by the lamented death of Madame 
Malibran de Beriot. She was to have appeared before you 
this summer ; all was arranged, but her fatal illness intervened, 
and by a singular and melancholy coincidence the tidings of 
her death arrived in Edinburgh on the very day which had 
been settled for her appearance here. I shall not attempt any 
vain or imperfect eulogy upon her transcendent powers — they 
were to be felt, not described ; but I fear that it will be lorn? 
ere the stage will boast her like again, and I am sure you will 
pardon me this humble tribute to the memory of so great a 
mistress of h:r art. For the honour which you have conferred 
upon me individually by your patronage this evening, and for 
the kind indulgence with which you have received my humble 
and imperfect efforts for your amusement, pray accept my 
grateful acknowledgments, and with the assurance that the 
vacation shall pass in unremitting efforts to merit a continuance 
of your favour, until November, I most respectfully ! i 
farewell. 

G 



74 FAREWELL, ADDRESSES. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
April 27, 1837. 
{Theatre-Royal.) 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — 

There's the old beginning 
With which for years your patience I've been dinning; 
But as 'tis customary so to start, 
And from old customs I am loath to part, 
With your permission, we'll begin again 
In the old strain — Ladies and Gentlemen. 
Colman has said that custom's potent sway, 
Demands an epilogue to every play, 
And you, I doubt not, for the self same reason, 
Expect a farewell speech to close the season. 
But how to vary these said speeches — how to swell 
Into a plump harangue, that word, farewell? 
How to say, "Thank ye," in a different style 
From that which last obtained the ready smile, 
Has been, with me, the task of many years, 
The trembling offspring of a thousand fears ; 
Lest I should fail in saying what was due 
To such kind friends as you, and you, and you. 

(Addressing Boxes, Pit, and Gallery.) 
Sometimes a Lord Commissioner I've stood 
Spouting, in official terms, my gratitude ; 
At others, Captain of some sea-beat boat, 
Thanking the friends who kept my bark afloat. 
In short, I've tried all themes, till, luckless elf, 
At last 1 dwindle into very self; 
And in mere propria persona stand, 
To thank those patrons who, with heart and hand, 
E'en in our darkest hour kindly rose, 
Bringing my toils to a triumphant close. 
At times the season, now so nearly past, 
Would oft, I thought, poor devil, breathe its last. 
Sometimes " The Mountain Sylph" would give a throb, 
Sometimes The Pantomime, and sometimes " Rob." 
Still the pulse fluttered ; sickness, frost, and snow, 
Brought the poor season wonderfully low ; 






FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

And oft the Treasurer told me, at the best, 

Twas fearful how she suffered in the chest. 

And yet what novelty could do, was done, 

From " Ion" down to Harlequin we run ; 

But all in vain, for when to cure these ills, 

Like greater statesmen, I brought in new bills ; 

You read and passed them — in the street — the pity 

Was^ I never caught you in committee. 

You read the Bills, but heeded not the Acts, 

Which, night by night explained — the Bills — the facts 

Were these : in times so sadly out of joint, 

With the thermometer below freezing point, 

I had no whipper-in to brave such weather, 

And Gall'ry, Box, and Pit, paired off together, 

Leaving the Manager in sad despair, 

Wasting his sweetness on the desert air. 

At length, when all seem'd lost, a star was seen 

Piercing the gloom, you know, friends, who I mean ; 

I see, and needn't tell you — it was Kean. 

He ushered in the morn, chased night away, 

You kindly followed, and confirmed the day ; 

A brilliant, sparkling, period of success, 

More than repaying for the past distress. 

But here I'm by my versifying caught, 

My doggrels cannot thank you as they ought. 

I feel an humble rhymster may rehearse 

A few light pleasantries in jingling verse, 

Winning the smiles which, from surrounding friends, 

The wish to please so constantly attends; 

But when the kindling stanza should impart 

The gratitude— the feeling of the heart, 

It needs a touch of true poetic fire 

To woo and win such verses from the lyre. 

The task is far beyond me — I resign 

Sach themes to better gifted heads than mine ; 

But tho" they've better heads, a heart more sound 

Or true to you cannot, I'm sure, be found 

Than that from which these parting accents swell — 

Patrons, a thousand thanks, and fare ye well. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES, 

COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON, 

June 24, 1837. 

(Adelphi.) 

MONODY TO THE B1EMORY OF WILLIAM IV. 

As now the darkest hour of night 
Mingles its shadows with returning light, 
So is the sorrow which pervades the land, 
Soothed by a dawning hope, so soft, so bland, 
That, like the early dew, grief fades away 
Before the promise of a glorious day. 

To-night we re-assume the busy scene, 

With mingled feelings — to our youthful Queen 

Our love and loyalty we gladly pay, 

And to the sacred dead this humble lay ; 

For none will murmur when the servants crave 

To wear a chaplet round their master's grave. 

It was a gallant spirit— though his birth 

Ranked him among the princes of the earth, 

He chose no idle life of care and pleasure, 

Leading through gilded halls the midnight measure ; 

lie to the service of his country sprung, 

And, as your nobly-gifted bard has sung, 

41 His march was o'er the mountain wave, Ids home 

Was on the deep" where mighty oceans foam ; 

There, by the spirit of a Rodney taught, 

Beneath " The meteor flag of England" fought, 

And from the lessons gained in Nelson's school, 

Learned to obey, ere called upon to rule. 

The more we read the human heart, we find 

Courage and mercy ever are combined ; 

So 'twas in him whose loss we now deplore. 

A brother seaman, on a foreign shore, 

"Was doom'd a venial fault with life to atone, 

His royal messmate made the suit his own, 

Pleaded the cause of mercy, and maintained 

The generous struggle till the cause was gained. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 77 

But it is past — the fitful dream is sped — 
The gallant seaman s numbered with the dead. 
One pageant yet remains — one scene — no more 
The midnight chaunt — the grave — and all is o'er ; 
Save that a nation's gratitude will cling 
Around the memory of their sailor king. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
October 27, 1837. 
(Adelphi.) 
Ladies and Gentlemen - , — Managers, like other trades- 
men, are frequently obliged to visit London, Paris, Brussels, 
et cetera, for the purpose of laying in the newest articles in 
their respective departments ; and when I last had the plea- 
sure of returning to Edinburgh from an excursion of this 
nature, I was on board the "Monarch" — a merry party had as- 
sembled in the cabin — we had passed Tantallon, and old 
Arthur was rising before us, decked with all the delightful an- 
ticipations of home, when that excellent seaman and kind- 
hearted man, Captain Bain, having just returned thanks for 
the honour of a bumper dedicated to his health, whispered in 
my car, " Mr Murray this is something like the conclusion of 
one of your campaigns, when you open the safety valves and 
make a speech." And I think, ladies and gentlemen, that 
you will allow that there is an amusing resemblance between 
the conclusion of a voyage by steam and the last night of a 
theatrical season. After all the noise and bustle of the pas- 
sage, our many wheels are still — our canvass furled — our ropes 
at rest. Those children of hot water, the performers, rush 
forth like the no longer needed steam, or, as Prospero says : — 

" Our revels being ended, these our actors 
Are melted into ah*, into thin air," 

while the captain stands bowing at the gangway, bidding fare- 
well, and wishing every health and happiness to those who 
have so kindly accompanied and cheered him on the passage. 
On such occasions an experienced eye will soon read in the 
features of the commander whether the trip has paid or not ; 
if unsuccessful, you will see him like 

" Pensive nun, devout and pure, 
Sober, stedfast, and demure," 

2g 



lb FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

and a dry respectful bow is all the departing passenger re- 
ceives ; but if, on the contrary, success has crowned his efforts, 
then all 

" Is nods and becks, and wreathed smites," 
and " parting becomes such sweet sorrow," that, like Juliet in 
the play, he can say — 

" Good night till it be morrow." 

After these hints, ladies and gentlemen, you will have little 
difficulty in discovering the result of our trip ; for the light 
and grateful heart with which I stand upon my quarter-deck, 
bidding you farewell, at once say, Murray has made a success- 
ful cruise of it. Ladies and gentlemen, it has been successful. 
A few electioneering squalls may have disturbed the commence- 
ment of our voyage, but the weather soon cleared, and the sun- 
shine of your favour again cheered our course, and we are 
now about to cast anchor with profit to ourselves, and, we 
hope, pleasure to you, our kind and liberal supporters. 

But " coming events cast their shadows before," and an- 
other season glares upon us through the vista of a fortnight, 
within which time new pieces have to be procured, new engage- 
ments formed ; yet good authors are scarce, and good actors 
not to be found under every hedge, as was once the opinion of 
my illustrious predecessor, Stephen Kemble. To explain this, 
allow me to inform you, that Liston, the inimitable comedian, 
had offended his manager, Kemble, by some boyish frolic at re- 
hearsal, and the indignant potentate exclaimed, "Mr Liston, 
don't build upon your favour with the public ; I can soon sup- 
ply your place ; actors are to be found under every hedge." 
Liston made no reply, and was regarded by his brother come- 
dians as a doomed man. Immediately after rehearsal, the per- 
formers left Newcastle for Shields, where they were to perform 
that night ; the manager killing two birds with one stone, by 
supplying the dramatic necessities of both towns with one com- 
pany. The distance was short, and the children of Thespis 
trudged merrily along, all, save Liston, whose face, for once, 
was wrapped in the shades of melancholy. He lingered be- 
hind, and when the actors reached Shields, Liston was missing. 
Hour after hour passed, and no Liston. The clock struck six, 
and time for commencing the performances approached, still 
no Liston. To begin without him was impossible, " and all 
was doubt, despair, and mystery." Now permit me to retro- 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES, 79 

grade, and place you exactly half way on the road from New* 
castle to Shields. A chaise approaches, bearing the portly 
manager, to whom, like Falstaff, M eight yards of uneven 
ground was three-score and ten miles a foot." Judge the 
manager's surprise, nay, horror, when, seated under a hedge by 
the way-side, he saw Liston. " Halloo, Mr Liston," exclaimed 
Kemble ; u Do you know the time ; what are you doing there, 
Sir ? " Looking for the actors you mentioned this morning," 
retorted the comedian. You may guess the result. Kemble 
apologised ; and to the surprise of the actors, Liston, in place 
of being discharged, rattled up to the door of the Theatre- 
Royal, Shields, in the manager's own chaise. Hedges, I fear, 
are equally unprolific now-a-days, but be assured, every exer- 
tion shall be made for your amusement. Your old favourites 
will struggle hard to retain your favour, and the new candi- 
dates labour as strenuously to obtain it. Once more, ladies 
and gentlemen, I respectfully and gratefully thank you for the 
past, and venture to solicit your favour for the future. Till 
this time fortnight, I beg respectfully to bid you farewell. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
April 28, 1838.* 
(Theatre- Royal. ) 
Ladies and Gentlemen-, — I suspect that the successive 
" farewells" of this evening resemble the spectre monarchs in 
Macbeth, and, as we tread upon each other's heels, I think I 
hear you exclaim — 

" Thou art, too, tike the spirit of Banquo, down — 
Thy crown doth sear mine eye-balls, and thy speech, 
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first ; 
A third is like the former. Filthy hags, 
Why do you show us this ?" 

I show myself, ladies and gentlemen, because the termination 
of the season renders it my duty to address you ; and though 
my unfortunate oration will labour under the heavy odds of 
two to one against it, I cannot suffer the curtain to fall with- 

* Mr Kean's benefit, who made a short address, and this evening 
being the last appearance on the stage of Mr Montague Stanley — a 
great favourite — he was loudly called upon, and being led on the 
stage by Mr Kean, addressed the audience in a few feeling sentences. 



80 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

out gratefully acknowledging the patronage which has attended 
us during a winter of almost unexampled severity, and which 
would have tried us sorely had not your liberal support of Mr 
Kean's engagement saved us. The lateness of the hour will 
excuse my hurrying to a conclusion ; and, indeed, what can I 
say, but has been infinitely better said by the honourable mem- 
bers who have previously had possession of the house. The 
only amendment I shall venture to move is, that you will 
mingle the three speeches together, and let the merits of my 
predecessors atone for any deficiency on my part. Ladies and 
gentlemen, we are all, manager and actors, deeply obliged to 
you for your continued kindness, and, till the commencement of 
the summer season, respectfully take our leaves. 

COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 
May 21, 1838. 
(Adelphi.) 
Mr Murray, looking in from a side door, apologised for in- 
terrupting the band in the performance of an overture, 
and said — 

Dear Mr Musgrave, by your leave, one minute, 

And for your overture, pray don't begin it 

'Till I have laid before each belle and beau 

A short petition, which shall humbly show 

The melancholy fear and trepidation 

With which we start our summer speculation. 

Like gleaners, seeking what the stubble yields 

After the harvest home has swept the fields, 

I know too well how warm the temper waxes 

When worried with eternity of taxes ; 

When day by day upon our pocket press 

" Road Money" — " Poor's Rates" — " Ale Dues" — "City Cess" 

" Bridewell" — " Police" — " Improvements" — till they rise 

Like Banquo's progeny, to sear our eyes ; 

Each after other thundering at our door, 

Bearing receipts " that show us many more. 91 

The galled jade will ivince, as you I ween 

Now do, to find no breathing time between 

The fresh exactions we this evening seek 



10 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 81 

After the Italian levies of last week. 

Well they deserved it, and success attend 'em ; 

Where'er they roam, may fortune still befriend 'em. 

Yet let us hope the jade has kept one smile 

Our summer Thespian labours to beguile, 

Tho' like M.P.'s, who, anxious to retreat, 

Accept " the Chiltren Hundreds''' for their seat, 

Our foreign friends first breathed their soft adieu, 

And then vacated with your " hundreds''' too, 

Leaving but little ready cash I fear 

For us poor devils who bring up the rear. 

You'll ask perhaps — why then begin your season 

With such rapidity ? Pray hear my reason : 

I would have paused, nor started, while Catone, 

Lablache, Bellini, and the fair Scheroni, 

Were ringing in your ears — brother, 

My actors eat as well as other men. 

And after three weeks' fasting all refuse, 

(The men by Lloyd, the ladies by Miss Cruise), 

Further delay ; — thus urg'd, I take the shutters down, 

Open my mimic shop, and supplicate the town. 

Although the English ware in which we trade 

Will seem but homely now, I'm much afraid, 

Yet, pri'thee, gentles, don't our efforts scorn 

Because we're u native and to the manner bono' 

Of that unfashionable vulgar tongue 

In which a Shakespeare wrote, a Milton sung — 

In which a Dryden's verses caught the ear, 

And your own Thomson sung " the rolling year"- — 

In which a Sheridan and a Goldsmith penned 

Scenes that the human heart and manners mend ; 

For these, and auld langsyne, should be endured 

The sounds, tho' rude, in which su2h strains were poured ', 

Strains that have cast, and must, thro' every age, 

Still cast a lustre round our native stage. 

Then, if Italian notes have left behind 

A single Scotch one, bear us still in mind : 

To the Adelphi sometime wend your way, 

And your petitioners will ever pray. 



82 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October 19, 1838. 

QAdelphi.) 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — Surrounded as I have the 
honour to be by friends and patrons of the drama, all present 
have doubtless read or witnessed the performance of Sheri- 
dan's admirable burlesque of " The Critic," and will remember 
the important question put by the kneeling tragedians to Mr 
Puff — u How are we to get off?" And a very important ques- 
tion it is for all classes of society ; but especially for an actor, 
whose sole value, like that of a congreve rocket, consisting in 
going off well — he is always, like the Thane of Cawdor, so 
studied in his end, 

" That nothing in his part 
Becomes him like the leaving it." 

Who has witnessed the illustrious Kemble in his magnificent 
personation of Coriolanus, and has not observed the infinite 
skill with which he ascended from triumph to triumph, until 
he reached the climax of his art, and picturing the conquests 
in Carioli, exclaimed, 

" Alone I did it, hoy ! " 
crowned with the thunders of acclamations ; and whose memory 
does not dwell upon the electric flash with which Kean illumi- 
nated the last act of his crook'd backed tyrant, by his splendid 
burst of 

"Eichard is himself again." 
I'm a very bad Richard, ladies and gentlemen, and I hope you 
will excuse my tragic efforts, but they lead me to the conclusion, 
that as all great actors, like skilful coachmen, keep their gallop 
for the last, so your humble servant, though no great actor, 
yet, as manager, a great potentate in a small way, is naturally 
anxious, on occasions like the present, to get off creditably, 
and " like immortal Caesar, die with decency." The peculiar 
difficulty regarding my final gallop is, that I have two ends to 
look after, my Theatre-Royal end, and my Adelphi end. I am 
a Bashaw with two tails ; or, as Stephano defines Caliban in 
the Tempest, " a most deliberate monster, with two voices " — 
my poetical voice, and my prosaic voice; with the first of which 
I pour forth my winter thanks in a flood of most admired 
doggrel, and with the second come before you, as I now do, to 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. Dd 

wind up our summer accounts, in plain, honest, unpretending 
prose. In order to vary these aforesaid ends, I have frequently 
flown from 

"Grave to gay, from lively to severe." 
But as no man is aware of his wit until he breaks his shins 
against it, so have my attempts at humour been attended with 
very serious consequences. An allusion to St Stephen's Chapel, 
alias the House of Commons, was mistaken for a jest upon a 
building of a more serious description, and lost me a regular 
attender, a constant boxite ; and a complaint that, after the Eng- 
lish theatres had worked up the raw material, the American 
managers transplanted the finished article, drew down upon me 
the vengeance of one of my actors,, who, having that day formed 
an engagement with the New World, rushed into my dressing- 
room, full of the jolly god, and demanded to know when he 
had been a " raw material ;" and I only escaped the conse- 
quences of my indiscretion by assuring him, that whatever he 
had been, all would acknowledge that he was then " a finished 
article." Thus, between Scylla and Charybdis, 'tis a hard way 
to hit, and I sincerely wish that my trans-atlantic friend, Major 
Wheeler, had, among his other " new notions," invented some 
circwndikidar machine, into one end of which we might put a 
Johnson's Dictionary and Murray's Grammar; and, turning 
the screws, bring out a tarnation good and pretty considerably 
correct " Farewell Address " at the other. 

My London brethren content themselves, on these occasions, 
with recapitulating all they have done during the season to 
merit public favour ; but to avoid such debateable ground, I 
will maintain my pretensions to your good opinion, not on the 
plays or the actors I have produced, but on those I have kept 
back. Oh, ladies and gentlemen, could you read all the trage- 
dies, comedies, plays, farces, and melo-dramas, which are shoved 
upon me. Could you see my " Penny Magazine," my collection 
of applications from the Othellos,Macbeths, Hamlets, Richards, 
Shy locks, Young Norvals, Old Norvals, Juliets, and Desde- 
monas, 

" The least a death to nature," 
you would pity me, and wonder how, Atlas-like, I sustained 
the pressure. One aspirant for histrionic fame, sends me his 
shilling shade, taken by Mr Lowe, South Bridge, that I may 
thereby judge of his abilities, 



84 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

" And in Othello's profile see his mind." 
Another, touching me upon a tender point, my pocket, assures 
me that his friends in Edinburgh are so numerous that his 
name at the top of the bills, in large letters, would fill the 
house without his acting at all. Oh, for an army of such men 
of letters to swell the receipts, and shorten the performances. 
But, I fear, ladies and gentlemen, that, like Dogberry, I am 
bestowing too much of my tediousness upon you ; and I will 
not trespass on your patience further, feeling assured that since 
I ground my claims on your approbation, not upon what I have 
done, but what I have not done — 

" Not my deserts, but what I don't deserve," 
you will acknowledge that those claims defy all competition ; and 
considering, with Hamlet, that " The less I deserve, the more 
merit is in your bounty," I hope this honourable house will grant 
me a unanimous vote of amnesty for the past and confidence 
for the future. 

I shall conclude, ladies and gentlemen, with offering my 
sincere thanks, as manager, for the liberal support you have 
afforded me during the summer season ; and, as actor, for the 
honour conferred upon me by the splendid assemblage of this 
evening. In both capacities, my best exertions will ever be 
devoted to your amusement, and adding to my own acknow- 
ledgments those of my brethren behind the scenes, until the 
10th of next month, we very respectfully take our leave. 



AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 

April 4, 1839. 

(Theatre-Royal.} 

The thin attendance during the season at the Theatre had been 
the subject of frequent regret and complaint. Mr Murray 
came forward and delivered the following serio-comic com- 
plaint, as an appeal to the public for more liberal pa- 
tronage : — 

Each year is marked by some peculiar passion, 
Some mania, elegantly termed, a fashion, 
With which said mania all must coincide, 
For vain it is to struggle 'gainst the tide, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 85 

Especially for actors, who must swim 
With the prevailing current ; court each whim 
That for the moment regulates mankind, 
Else sink at once, " and leave no wreck behind." 
Or, midst the waters, should their mimic boat, 
By its own levity be kept afloat, 
Pray, thee, remember, magnates of the town, 
The crew may starve, although they don't go down, 
You smile to hear me talk of starving, entre nous, 
Don't judge by my exterior ; if you do, 
You'll be mistaken, and hereafter find 
I'm not " the Justice with fat capon lined, 11 
Yet own, with FalstafF, though in humour sadder, 
" Fasting and grief have blown me like a bladder" 
Sans food, I've ruminated on the means 
To win you back again to grace our scenes ; 
And yet, what more to do than has been done, 
I know not ; through the drama we have run, 
Now tried Thalia, now Melpomene, 
Ranging from Richard to the Dominie. 
Song, dance, and pantomime have had their day, 
I beg your pardon, evenings, I should say, 
While almost nightly since we made our start 
Some radiant constellation of the art 
Of which the London boards had not bereft us, 
And every star America has left us, 
Have shone in such succession, that you may 
Call the whole season Murray's Milky Way. 
But all in vain, the great ones of the city 
Have left our bills to a select committee ; 
W r ho, scatter'd here and there, are nightly seen, 
Like angel's visits, few and far between. 
To them, we're grateful, but the plan won't do, 
We can't exist on the judicious few. 
No — we must rally ere the season passes, 
And, like our betters, agitate the masses ; 
For, as you're perfectly aware, no doubt, 
We glory in " the pressure from without." 
Since Joint Stock Companies are all the rage, 
Can't we form one to benefit the stage ? 
Come, take some shares, the instalment's very small, 
II 



5b FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Four shillings to the boxes, that is all, 

With power to refuse a second call. 

And if in making out the allocation^ 

You miss the fairer part of the creation 

To join the company, the thing is done, 

Secure the ladies, and the battle's won. 

We'll do our best to please, nor need they fear 

One scene, or word, to taint the eye or ear; 

Or should they, weary of us, wish to see 

A company of greater brutes than we, 

We'll try the lions, and the monkeys, too, 

Goats, leopards, panthers, tigers — all the crew 

Of four-legged London actors, till we grow 

A second Zoological Depot. 

But ill reports fly very fast, I fear, 

And should their beastily excellencies hear 

Of empty benches they might let us slip, 

As rats instinctive cut a sinking ship. 

Then aid us, gentle masters, chase the cloud 

Which has so long enwrapt us like a shroud ; 

One sunny gleam will oft repair an hour 

Of previous gloom, so has your favour power 

Yet to retrieve the past. Then keep in view 

The " Joint Stock Company'' I beg of you ; 

Rush to the Box-office, where Kemp attends 

With the prospectus. Gather all your friends ; 

Fear not for room, — our Theatre, though small, 

Has, like Othello's vengeance, " stomach for you all." 

AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
April 23, 1839. 
(Theatre-Royal.) 

THE ANNIVERSARY OF SHAKESPEARE'S BIRTH -DAY. 

Performances under the Patronage of the Shakespeare Club of 

Scotland. 
An humble scion of Thalia's brood, 
And much " unused to the melting mood" 
Fitter to jest in couplets than rehearse 
The lofty stanza of heroic verse, 
You'll wonder I should venture on the lay 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 87 

Which celebrates our Shakespeare's natal day. 
In honest truth, to the last moment run, 
'Twas u Hobsori's choice" the manager or none. 
Press'd as we are with nightly toil, I own 
All other brains are full, and mine alone 
Were empty found; then, pray, let haste excuse 
The anxious tremor which may mar the muse j 
Should the verse labour, or the measure halt, 
Blame not the author for the actor's fault ; 
But still remember, as I pour the line, 
His are the beauties, all the errors mine. 
Time the great alchymist treats all below, 
'Tis said, as if the world were but a show, 
And man and all his works a breath, a thought, 
Passing away from all-in-all to nought. 
'Tis a vain tale, whate'er its moral be— 
For Shakespeare lives and moves unchangeably. 
Nations may perish — empires may depart — 

But he's incorporate with the human heart. 

Survey the mirror — scan its varied scenes — 

The flowing characters — their minds and miens — 

And then, with awe, confess the poet's skill, 

Who moulded varying nature to his will. 

Gently she yielded to the potent spell, 

Owning she scarce had done her work, herself, so well. 

Elate she swelled with conscious pride to view 

Rome's great ones as they breathed, their lives renew, 

Coriolanus slain by treacherous hate, 

Imperial Csesar with his short-lived state, 

Brutus and Cassius, heroes of the past, 

Patriots in all, and Romans to the last. 

The scenes of England's annals rise again, 

And history yields the palm to Shakespeare's strain : 

John's faithless life — meek Arthur's death — the deed 

That gave to fame the field of Runnymede ; 

Here the fell Glo'ster deals the fatal blow — 

There Henry frowns, and Wolsey is laid low ; 

And Scotland, too, sees her dark page illumed — 

The spectral forms of old are disentomb'd, 

And terror shakes the soul, as fell Macbeth, 

With the Weird sisters, treads the blasted heath. 



88 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Pity and love succeed — the scenes disclose 

Passion's excess, with all its train of loves. 

The young thought-wearied Prince, whose teeming mind 

Reflects the darkest fears that grieve mankind. 

The fair Ophelia's love crushed, like a flower 

Untimely opened to the April shower. 

The Mantua tale, with tears of lovers wet 

For heart-sick Romeo and his Juliet ; 

While the dark moor, with envy by his side, 

Yields to the demon's toils his sainted bride. 

He turned to lighter scenes with equal mind — 

The follies, foibles, frolics of mankind, — 

He drew the merry Prince, the scape-grace Jack, 

Replete with lies, quips, quiddities, and sack, — 

Made Jaquez, Rosalind, and Touchstone start 

Forth from the canvass master-works of art 5 

He showed the way to foil the cruel Jew, 

And — harder task, I own — to tame a shrew; 

Then spurning the mere portraiture of man, 

To Prospero gave Ariel and Caliban. 

Admirers of the bard, joined in his cause, 

These are the scenes that won your fond applause ; 

He holds the mirror up, and not in vain, 

To you is left, to keep it without stain. 

Friends of the stage, to those who filled your part, 

In by-gone days we owe the fruit of art, 

Which, sunned to life, was ripened by the glow 

Of favour such as you even now bestow. 

Nor need we fear the tempest's adverse force, 

Which strives to beat our vessel from its course, 

Convinced that while your friendly smiles remain, 

The days that have shone o'er us will again ; 

For as the bow of hope expands its form, 

And kindles into light the dying storm, 

Your aid shall cheer us on to pay what's due 

To Shakespeare, to our art, and last, not least, to you. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSED 89 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

May 3, 1S39. 

(Theatre-Royal.') 

A JOINT- STOCK COMPANY FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF 
THE DRAMA. 

u At a brilliant and numerous assemblage of ladies and gen- 
tlemen, called by public advertisement, and held in the Theatre- 
Royal, Edinburgh, on Friday evening, May 3, 1339, for the 
purpose of receiving the report of the Provisional Committee 
appointed by the Joint-Stock Company for the encouragement 
of the Drama, Good Nature was unanimously called upon to 
preside, under whose kind and smiling auspices the following 
report was submitted to the meeting : — 

or committee, unwilling to follow the example of the 
sapient Mr Dogberry, by bestowing the tedionsness of their own 
remarks upon you, think proper to begin their report by quot- 
ing the following appropriate observations from the writings of 
that distinguished ornament of Scotland's literature, the late 
Sir Walter Scott — who says, ' that when the daily calls of 
labour and social duty are fulfilled, that of moderate and timely 
amusement claims a place, as a want inherent in our nature. 
To relieve this want, games have been devised, books have 
been written, music has been composed, and spectacles and 
written and exhibited ;' and if, as the same gifted 
writer expresses himself, ' these last have a virtuous and moral 
tendency— if the sentiments expressed are calculated to rouse 
our love of what is noble, and our contempt of what is mean 
and base — if they unite hundreds in a sympathetic admiration 
of virtue, abhorrence of vice, or derision of folly ' — your 
committee are unanimous in thinking that it cannot be deemed 
unworthy of the taste and liberality of this great city, to be- 
stow such a portion of their attention upon the drama in 
general, and the Theatre-Royal, Edinburgh, in particular, as 
may prevent the latter from falling into that state of disregard 
and consequent destitution, which have reduced similar estab- 
lishments to seek existence by exhibitions unworthy of the 
boards, where a Siddons, a Kemble, and a Kean have poured 
forth the language of a Shakespeare. With these feelings, 
your committee have great satisfaction in finding that much 

2h 



00 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

has been done by the establishment of ' the Thespian Joint- 
Stock] in rescuing this theatre from its late depression ; and 
they strongly recommend a large increase in the capital of the 
said ' Joint- Stock] payable by nightly instalments to the 
credit of ' Murray & Co.,' Shakespeare Square. Your com- 
mittee is further of opinion, that, as the business of a Joint- 
Stock must be carried on by a manager, the said manager 
should, as a necessary check, be called upon, at the expiry of 
every season, to lay the results of his proceedings before as 
many of the subscribers as he can ingeniously contrive to cram 
within the walls of his theatre, and, asking their sanction to 
sit again, receive their opinion as to the merits or demerits of 
his arrangements. 

"That, in consideration of long services, Mr W. H. Murray 
be appointed Interim -Manager, with full powers to improve 
himself and his company, to the best of his abilities. 

" These proposals having been received with loud and unani- 
mous approbation, Mr Murray advanced and returned thanks 
for his appointment in the following neat and appropriate 
address : — Ladies and Gentlemen, — It is more than a reward 
for all my past labours and anxieties to find that, after a service 
of fully thirty years, I have the happiness of retaining your 
good opinion ; for, as the younger Colman expresses it, ' when 
a servant has grown grey under one master, it looks as if there 
were, at least, honesty on the one side, and regard on the 
other.' In these, my annual addresses, I have been sometimes 
blamed by those acquainted with the secrets of our prison house 
for giving a brighter tone to our affairs than the facts warran- 
ted, but who, before such an assemblage, can use the language 
of complaint, when, at the termination of a season, however 
unfortunate, we behold our friends and patrons rallying round 
us, anxious to testify their kindness, and, I may add, esteem ; 
it is not in nature, at least not in mine, to come before you 
with a melancholy face, and in which my friend Mr Musgrave 
would call my double m — groan over the past. This season, ladies 
and gentlemen, has not been fortunate, but I feared it before we 
hoisted sail — the horizon lowered — I anticipated a stormy 
passage — and strengthened my crew with such a list of able- 
bodied names as would, I hoped, have enabled me to brave the 
tempest, but it has mastered me ; still, as the future may 
repair the past, we mean to start the good .ship again for a 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 01 

fortnight's cruise, when, aided by your kindness, and guided 
by the light of one star more, we hope to make up much of 
our leeway. Ladies and gentlemen, we mean to re-open the 
Theatre-Royal on Tuesday, the 14th May, when I shall 
introduce to you that celebrated actress, Mrs Fitzwilliam, from 
the London theatres. After her engagement we shall launch 
our summer craft, and hope, by our activity in the production 
of the lighter novelties peculiar to the Adelphi, to merit a 
continuation of your favour. I shall now, ladies and gentle- 
men, respectfully take my leave, begging your acceptance of 
my best thanks for the honour you have conferred upon me by 
your patronage this evening; and my performers join me in 
hoping that, if you do not impute the failure of this season to 
our negligence, you will not leave us in a minority when we 
move this honourable house for a vote of approbation on our 
theatrical policy ; and as no motion is now-a-days suffered to 
pass without an amendment, allow me to conclude by moving 
— the next season be an amendment to the past." 



THE TOURNAMENT ADDRESS.* 

October 19, 1839. 

(Adelphi.) 

Fhrcnoloey has often laid great stress 
On Time's prevailing bump, " Destructiveness ;" 
Yet, look around, and we must surely deem 
That bump is balanced by " large Self-Esteem^ 
For every passing day, nay hour, appears 
Some petted plaything of his early years, 
Of which, despite his usual wear and tear, 
The ancient rogue has ta'en a father's care, 
And shows it, that the world may see, forsooth, 
What a gay gallant Time was in his youth. 
'Twas, tickled by this vanity, he sent 
To Lady Fashion the late tournament, 

♦ Mr Murray, in imitation of the Earl of Eglinton, got up a Tour- 
nament at the Adelphi Theatre, which, as the reader will gather from 
the address, was the means of saving the season from being' a great 
pecuniary loss. It was a most humorous affair, and ran for a length- 
ened period. 



02 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

That all her children might with wonder gaze 

On ancient knights eclipsing modem days. 

Pleased with the toy, Dame Fashion gave command, 

And helms and bucklers rattle through the land. 

Cupid falls ten per cent., darts become lances, 

And o'er the little god the war-horse prances ; 

While she, whose youthful charms were once the rage, 

Is cut for armour of a middle age. 

Vainly around their lures the ladies fling, 

Men tilt no longer at the wedding ring ; 

But, fenced in double-breasted coats of mail, 

Laugh at the charms that would their hearts assail. 

'Tis universal madness — lands and leases 

Evaporate in spears, quines, and cuisses. 

At every turning, and in every street, 

Some stalwart Quixotte of the day we meet, 

With lance in rest, while from the helmet's bar 

Flames forth the indispensable cigar, 

Mocking the mania, for, its smoke ascending, 

Satirically hints what all will end in. 

Oh ! for a pen of Mosley's finest steel, 

Guided by Froissart's genius, to reveal 

The glories of the long anticipated hour, 

The ladies, lords, the Queen of Beauty's bower, 

The lists, the lances, and the fatal shower. 

Millions on millions of umbrellas rise, 

In hopes to tire out the opposing skies ; 

But all in vain ; — the deities were crusty, 

The warriors chilly, and their armour rusty. 

So, one by one, each luminary set, 

And chivalry was drown'd in heavy wet. 

Still, 'twas a scene of knightly pomp to see, 

Proving of mighty benefit to me ; 

For till that started up, 'twas very clear, 

Do what we would, we couldn't get you here. 

The scant receipts grew nightly, I confess, 

" Fine by degrees, and beautifully less," 

Till all was silence and dark desolation ; 

When — on the very eve of sequestration, 

The coming tournament burst on my ear, 

I donn'd my mimic corslet, grasped my spear, 






FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 93 

Exclaiming, with Macbeth, " Blow wind, come wrack, 

At least we'll die with harness on our back ;" 

Mounted my steed of wicker-work, and fought 

Until I gained your smile — the prize I sought. 

Picture the farmer, who, when winds are high, 

And angry clouds deform the autumn sky, 

Beholds the torrent swell — his bosom yields 

To sad forebodings for his teeming fields, 

When suddenly, the sun, with genial ray, 

Smiles o'er the landscape, and restores the day. 

All hands to work, and 'midst the merry din, 

The anxious farmer gets his harvest in. 

I am the farmer, and your smiles my sun ; 

My crops are safely housed, my labours done, 

Save the attempt to pour, in measures rude, 

Some feeble tribute of my gratitude. 

But, 'tis in vain — then let your hearts instead, 

Feel what I ought to say, and think it said. 

This, I confess, friends, to my confusion, 

M Is a most lame and impotent conclusion." 

But think upon long years of service — speeches past, 

And pardon, if I've stumbled at the last. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October 25, 1839. 

{Adtlphi.') 

mr Murray's benefit. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — It is the remark of one of our 

most eminent dramatic writers that 

" Successful love intoxicates the brain," 

and I cannot but think it particularly fortunate for me, espe- 
cially on the present occasion, that a successful season has not 
the same inebriating influence, or my expressions this evening 
might savour more of the Mr Tompkin's school of eloquence 
than you might deem agreeable or decorous, for one so suc- 
cessful I have not known for many years. I was strongly 
advised to reserve the address I had the honour of delivering 
on the termination of our u tournament" for this evening, and 



01 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

not run the risk of wearing your patience by two oratorical 
explosions, so closely treading on each others heels ; but 
really, ladies and gentlemen, such a season as this has been 
merits more than one speech to grace its termination. I have 
followed many a winter and summer campaign to the tomb of 
all the Capulets, but certainly never assisted at the obsequies 
of one which had stronger claims upon my gratitude, or left 
me with more weighty reasons to speak well of him. As 
Mark Antony says — 

" I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him." 

Yet when I look back upon the conduct of my deceased friend 
during his brief career — when I recollect the difficulties he en- 
countered, and the neglect he experienced at his first starting 
into life — when I call to mind the patient magnanimity with 
which he nightly faced 

" The wide vacuity which reign'd around," 
without once relaxing in his exertions for me, or forgetting his 
duty towards you, I confess, ladies and gentlemen, that my 
feelings overpower me — (affecting tears) — for — 

" My heart is in the coffin, there, with Caesar, 
And I must pause till it come back to me." 

Often in some dark moment of our struggle have I apostro- 
phised my companion, exclaiming, " Season, dear season, you're 
a bad one ;" and he has mildly replied, u Yes, Murray, but I 
will be better. Remember, my dear manager, the observation 
of that distinguished financier, who consoled himself for a de- 
creasing revenue, by recollecting that the money was still fruc- 
tifying in the pockets of the public ; so are our receipts, and I 
will yet win golden opinions from all sorts of men." And he 
redeemed his pledge — seconded by your kindness, his perseve- 
rance overcome all difficulties. The receipts were doubled, bills 
settled, salaries paid, 

" And all the clouds that lower'd on our house 
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried." 

These observations may he deemed somewhat premature, when 
it is considered that my friend, though very near his end, still 
lives ; but it is the fashion of the day to announce a great man's 
death, and write his epitaph long before he has the least inten- 
tion of taking his leave ; and, as in my case, the heir who looks 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES, 95 

forward to a thumping legacy, may be excused anticipating 
" the coming event" which already " casts its shadows before" 

But it is time to tear myself from the contemplation of the 
season now so near its close, and say a few words respecting 
that which is to come, like the widower in the play, who weeps 
for his deceased wife with one eye, while he ogles her intended 
successor with the other. 

I believe that a report has very generally prevailed, that I 
was about to retire from the management of the Theatre- 
Royal ; and I will candidly confess, ladies and gentlemen, that, 
disheartened by many failures there, , and the heavy expenses 
of that establishment, I did solicit permission to resign my lease 
and patent, but it was found impracticable, at least without 
such arrangements as would have banished me professionally 
from Edinburgh, which I declined, and am once more a sup- 
pliant for your favour and support for the ensuing winter. I 
hope, my kind patrons, you will do me the justice to own, that 
I am not one of those managers who, as Colman said, liked 
to weep over his distresses, and make the public his pocket- 
handkerchief. No ; mine are not good tragedy features ; and 
I cheerfully and thankfully acknowledge that the success of 
this summer will fully enable me to repair all the disappoint- 
ments of the preceding winter, and I will struggle hard, ladies 
and gentlemen, to merit a continuance of your favour. To my 
own thanks for your support during the season, and the per- 
sonal honour done me by your attendance this evening, allow 
me to add those of the performers whose benefits have shared 
in the general success. Ladies and gentlemen, the Theatre- 
Royal, will open on Saturday the 9th of November, until which 
period, with feelings of the deepest gratitude, I take my leave. 



COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 

February 17, 1840. 

( Theatre-Royal.') 

THE FIRST EVENING OF " JACK SHEPPARD." 

Oppressed with hydra-headed doubts and fears, 
An old offender at your bar appears, 
With humble hopes, my Lords, you'll not deny him, 
A word or two in private ere you try him. 



yb FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Yet, when I look around, my spirits fail me, 

Seeing the phalanx ready to assail me — 

Of critical acumen, what a host; 

Here frowns the " Journal,'' there the "Evening Post," 

Both " Standard" and " Observer" meet my view, 

With " Mercury," " Courant," and " Advertiser" too 

See what a moody brow the " Scotsman" wears, 

And lo, for war the " Chronicle" prepares, 

Ready to pour upon my hapless pate 

The mighty thunders of the " fourth estate," 

Thinking, prophetic souls, how sweetly peppered, 

I shall to-morrow be for my "Jack Sheppard." 

Yet, deem not, friends, I blame the honest rage 

Would crush the playwright who corrupts the stage ; 

But fairly view my mimic web unwoven, 

And then, I trust, you'll find the charge " not proven." 

With no career of crime, your taste insulting, 

We paint the miseries from crime resulting ; 

Like to the serpent charmers, who extract 

The venom from the reptile ere he act, 

'Tis an old saying, ancient as the flood, 

Nothing's so bad, but it contains some good — 

No man's so born a fiend, but in his heart 

Lurks some kind trait, unwilling to depart ; 

No book so deadly, but some good produces, 

As prussic acid helps the gastric juices ; 

And arsenic, with precaution taken in, 

As doctors tell us, benefits the skin. 

The dose depends upon the preparation, 

And being ministered in moderation. 

E'en opium, that would still a world's alarms, 

Poured in too largely, sets a world in arms. 

Upon these hints, some scenes we bring to view, 

From which a Gay once sung, and Hogarth drew, 

Those moral lessons where our youth still see 

Contrasted idleness and industry — 

How honest labour may to honour rise, 

While the base sluggard on the scaffold dies. 

With like intent, we cull the page to-night, 

Fully rewarded, if we warn one wight, 

Who, hesitating on the brink of sin, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 97 

Plays with the vortex that must suck him in. 
(Prompter's bell heard.) Hark ! 'tis the signal on the swell- 
ing tide, 
Our bark is launched, your sentence to abide. 
If you approve, with joy we gain the shore ; 
If not, strike sail, and we'll oiFend no more. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

May 29, 1840. 

(Theatre-Royal.') 

mr Murray's benefit. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — It may appear somewhat omi- 
nous when I commence my address this evening by stating, 
that every year which passes the more and more convinces me 
that the manager of a theatre is essentially one of that in- 
teresting and numerous class of mankind denominated " Gen- 
tlemen in difficulties" — and, moreover, the difficulties of a 
manager have this peculiarity, that the greatest success does 
not relieve him from them ; for instance, when I had the 
honour of terminating our last winter campaign, my difficulty 
consisted in putting a good face on a very bad season, and I 
now feel it no less a difficulty, how sufficiently to thank you 
for an extremely good one. Last winter, ladies and gentle- 
men, was a striking proof of how the best laid schemes of 
managers, as well as mice, gang aft ajee ; for were a casual 
observer, unacquainted with the actual results of the two seasons, 
to compare the bills we had the honour of laying before you last 
year with those of the present, he would be led to imagine 
that the profitable season, this the reverse, — not a morning 
then arose, but our announcements displayed — 

In type gigantic, some illustrious name 

Fresh from the boards of metropolic fame ; 

Till our whole season, like a frosty night, 

Was one long galaxy of starry light. 

But, alas ! ladies and gentlemen, as my nocturnal luminaries 
set, and the pay-day dawned, I found, upon surveying my 
treasury chest, that, as usual, they had appropriated the lions 
share, and left me with — pardon the pun, 
I 



98 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Box, et prceterea nihil. 
Not a guinea remained, not a one- pound note, 
As my stars to their carnages hurried, 
Nor left me, in pity, one farewell shot 
In the chest where my hopes lay buried. 

Few and short were the words they said, 
And those not the words of sorrow, 
As cheerfully off with the money they fled — 
And I not a rap for the morrow. 

i 

Slowly and sadly I sat me down 
With my hand on my upper story — 

(Striking his forehead) — 
And felt as I pressed my only crown, 
That cash was better than glory. 

Still, ladies and gentlemen, anxious as managers proverbially 
are to profit by everything, like our betters, we do not profit by 
experience, and much as theatres, both in London and out, 
have suffered from what is called "the planetary system," 
still we pursue it. 'Tis death to us to issue a bill without 
standing under the shadow of some astounding name, such as 
we boasted when our boards were graced by Siddons, Kernble, 
Kean, O'Neil, Young, Charles Kemble, Bannister, Munden, 
Mathews, Emery, Johnstone, Liston, Wilson, Macready, Miss 
Stephens, and, may I not add, my sister — with many, many 
others " too numerous" as my brethren of the shopocracy say, 
" to mention in this advertisement.'" But, waesme, how many 
of this splendid list live but in our memories— how many re- 
tire to enjoy in private life the fruits of their talent and your 
favour — how many wafted by that monster of hot water " the 
Great Western" to America — and how many chained to London 
by golden fetters we have been unable to unloose. In this 
state of affairs, finding that I could procure no stars of the first 
magnitude, I declined the twinJclers, and trusting to the talent 
and industry of my regular company, which I well know could 
bear competition with some in, and all out of the metropolis, 
I determined to attack your pockets with all the varied charms 
of comedy, opera, farce, vaudeville, melo-drama, and panto- 
mime. Tragedy I in great measure eschewed. My young friend 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 99 

Charles Kean was abroad, Macready was too much at home in 
London : and though it is a common saying, that when you 
cannot snow white, you should snow brown, I could not help 
thinking that with such judges of that article before me, when 
a man cannot snow the real thing, he had better not snow at 
all. With this impression, I, like better generals, took up such 
positions as I knew my troops were fully able to maintain, and 
with the results of our campaign you are already acquainted. 
They have, indeed, been most successful ; for the which I am 
truly grateful, and respectfully lay before you my best and sin- 
cerest thanks for your very liberal support and kindness. 

Before I make my bow, I feel that a few words more are 
necessary, both in justice to you and to myself. Although I 
cannot but feel highly gratified at the success of a season so 
little aided by exctics, and during which, unchecked by prouder 
names, several of our company have rapidly advanced in your 
favour. I beg that it may not be imagined, from anything 
which has passed to-night, that I purpose declining the future 
aid of metropolitan talent — far from it. Be assured that I 
know my duty to you better; but I candidly own that I have 
determined to resist such terms as were never demanded or 
dreamed of by a Siddons or a Kemble in the proudest days of 
their career, and which cannot be granted by any manager who 
maintains his theatre and company in that state of efficiency 
which a city like Edinburgh has a right to expect. Let all 
imitate the fairness of my young friend Charles Kean, and our 
doors shall be open to all, and I am sure you will not blame us 
for expecting a share of the loaves and fishes. 

Ladies and gentlemen, we shall commence our summer ope- 
rations on Saturday evening the 27th June, when I trust that 
our arrangements will merit a continuance of your support. 
And now, my kind and liberal patrons, once more thanking 
you for the success of this season ; for the personal honour you 
have conferred upon an old servant by the splendid attendance 
of this evening ; and last, not least, for the kind attention with 
which you have listened to a long, and, I fear, a somewhat tedi- 
ous address, I once more respectfully take my leave. 



100 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October 16, 1840. 

(AdelphL) 

To-night we terminate, what may with reason 

Indeed be called a thorough summer season ; 

For ne'er did fairy bark o'er golden sea 

More lightly win its onward course than we 

Have wended on our way, since first we gave 

Our merry little galley to the wave. 

No darkening cloud, not e'en a rumble, 

Or smallest accident, save Wilson's tumble, 

Has marr'd the trip — from morn to evening bell, 

Throughout our voyage, the word has been — " All's Well.'' 

Yet, as some ill all earthly pleasure taints, 

And managers, like doctors, love complaints, 

I fear the even tenor of our way 

Has left me hardly anything to say, 

And calm prosperity this lesson teaches 

That tranquil seasons spoil the "farewell speeches" 

To jest at scars, and laugh at dangers past, 

Give such an air of gallantry at last, 

That we, like dark Othello, love to prate 

Of the distressful accidents of fate — 

Of dire mischances which no art could bridle — 

Of losses vast — bad houses— actor's idle ; 

Of morning promenades, where birds and beasts 

Devour your money — and those evening feasts, 

Those lectures, where, for twopence, ladies swear to 

" Cure every sorrow human flesh is heir to ;" 

And last, not least, Vesuvius with its rockets 

Playing Old Harry with our pits and pockets ; 

While high in air its fiery pigeons go 

In triumph o'er the pigeons down below. 

On these I reckoned to make out a case, 

Which might have justified a tragic face, 

Thinking that, like fair Desdemona, you 

Would love me more for what I had gone through. * 

But all in vain, for spite of wind and weather, 

We and Vesuvius have done well together ; 

Nor do I think I've lost a single guinea, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 101 

E'en by eruptions that destroyed old Pliny. 

So list, while I with gratitude confess, 

Our season has been one long scene of great success. 

It has been said, perhaps with truth, that verse 

Can ill the feelings of the heart rehearse ; 

And if such be the case, then Heaven knows, 

I should have couched my farewell speech in prose, 

As nought can give a value to my lay 

But the true-heartedness of what I say ; 

Yet let us not so humbly rate the lyre, 

Or coldly pluck from it its soul of lire, 

Eecall your classic volumes, and by turns 

Range from old Homer to your native Burns, 

And every kindling bosom must agree, 

44 The language of the heart is poetry. 1 '' 

At any rate, I'll trust its measure now 

To speak my feelings ere I make my bow. 

First then, permit a parting word to one 

"Whose histrionic course this night has run — 

To one, whose varied skill, your smiles and tears 

Have oft acknowledged, far outwent her years ; 

Then picture, had she longer graced our scene, 

Not only what she was, but would have been. 

But it is passed, and now in private life 

May she as happily perform M The Wife" — 

May her loved lord from every ill defend her, 

And every joy this world can know attend her. 

*' So much for Buckingham." Now for an elf 

Who still incumbers you — I mean — myself. 

For one-and-thirty years I've trod your stage, 

Creeping from thoughtless boyhood into 

But no — why doff my wig — while auburn locks 
Still bloom, Adonis-like, on older blocks, 
Why should I prate of age — your genial smiles 
Renew my youth, and father Time beguiles 
To grant more seasons yet, with more successes, 
New stars — some lions — and more " Last Addresses." 
But now, ere summoned by the prompter's bell, 
Tis time, kind friends, that I should say — Farewell ; 
So pray accept, ere I rejoin the ranks, 
Both for the season, and to-night, mv grateful thanks. 
2i 



102 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 



AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
March 6, 1841. 
{Theatre-Royal.') 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — I'm sure that you will excuse 
the liberty I take in thus interrupting the progress of your 
amusements, when you consider that my success in life so 
entirely depends upon the possession of your favour and good 
opinion, that without these I might as well close my doors. 
It is this conviction which induces me to trespass upon your 
time, and respectfully to beg your attention, while I clear 
myself from an imputation which has been very strangely cast 
upon my conduct respecting the approaching Amateur Thea- 
tricals. I shall, from time to time, refer to the paper I hold 
in my hand, that I may not, in the hurry of the moment, use 
one word I could not afterwards thoroughly substantiate. It 
has been very generally reported, that after having let the 
Adelphi Theatre for a stipulated sum to the Committee of 
Management for the Amateurs, I suddenly broke the agree- 
ment, and, refusing the use of the Adelphi, insisted upon the 
Committee's taking the Theatre- Royal instead, demanding, in 
addition to the sum previously agreed upon, a clear half of the 
profits arising from the performance next Tuesday. This is 
the charge against me. Now, ladies and gentlemen, for the 
facts. When the deputation of the Committee took the 
Adelphi Theatre, they never asked my terms, but at once 
made me the following offer, in the following words : — " It is 
proper, Mr Murray, that we should clearly understand each 
other as to terms, and we offer you the same which we have 
upon similar occasions given Mr Calcraft of the Dublin 
Theatre, namely, a clear half of the profits, after the expenses 
of the evening on both sides are defrayed." I accepted the 
offer, expressing my regret that the failure of the season 
hitherto prevented my putting the Adelphi at their command 
gratuitously. The officers replied, that it was not expected of 
me, and that as the novelty of the proposed amateur per- 
formances might injure the Theatre for some nights before 
and after, they saw no reason why I should not have the 
same advantages which had been given to the Dublin man- 
ager. The only stipulation I made was, that the amateur 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 103 

performances might be delayed until the benefits of my per- 
formers were over, as I was well aware that so great a novelty 
must cast all other attractions into the shade. This re- 
quest was cordially acceded to by the officers, and all was 
settled. But when I found that the Committee would require 
the assistance of the ladies of the Theatre, I felt that it would 
be better, upon all considerations, to give up my performances 
on that night, and offer the Theatre-Royal for the same terms 
previously agreed upon for the Adelphi. This offer was most 
gladly accepted by the Committee ; and thus, ladies and gen- 
tlemen, so far from increasing my demands, I gave up the 
chance of additional profit for the two' places of amusement 
being open on the same evening. Such, ladies and gentle- 
men, is a plain statement of the case, and which, I trust, will 
totally exonerate me from the charge made against me. 
Some of the officers have most kindly and handsomely 
offered to verify my statement ; but I trust your long expe- 
rience of me will render further assertions unnecessary. 
Ladies and gentlemen, I very sincerely thank you for the kind 
attention you have honoured me with, and most respectfully 
bid you good night. 

OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
March 11, 1841. 
( Theatre-Royal.) 

BENEFIT OF MR MURRAY. 

This morning as I paced St Andrew's Square, 

I heard two lads conning my Bill of Fare ; 

And when they'd finished — one cried, " Here's a mess ! 

Murray's got no Occasional Address ! 

The covey's wrong, for now-a-days I know 

Without a speech, a benefit's no go. 

Look at Lloyd's House, all cramm'd to suffocation — 

And why ? Because he tipped us an oration. 

And Dibdin Pitt, on Thursday last you see, 

Vow'd he owed everything to you and me. 

It's worth a sixpence, Tom, to hear all that ! 

But Murray's getting rich and rather fat, 

And takes the thing too easy now-a-days, 

For very frequently he never plays ; 



J 04 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

When, till this season, I have often heer'd, 

There never was a night but he appeared ! 

You'll say, he's old ; but when he likes it, he 

Can come it wery rum in comedy ; 

Can tip a stave, or cut a whirligig, 

And look uncommon natty in his wig." 

Says 'tother, " Don't be hard, he mayn't have time 

To keep the actors right, as well as rhyme, 

I vonder ven I read 'em how he does it." 

" You fool, they're never printed as he says it," 

Replies the first ; "for though they stick and stammer, 

The newspapers next day screws up the grammar, 

Puts right the stops and spelling, and then, after 

Popping in here ' applause,' and there ' loud laughter/ 

Winds up with, when the blade withdraws, 

1 Bravos,' — ' Loud Shouts,' — and ' Thunders of Applause/ 

If Murray wants a bumper I'd advise him 

To write a speech, or I shan't patronise him. 

A speech of fun and feeling, an address 

Cramm'd full of something ' language can't express/ 

Long whapping words, as never can convey 

The meaning of one half they're meant to say, 

On a full night, the Gallery's a stew, 

And if I'm toasted, I'll be buttered to." 

'Twas plain he spoke in kindness, not in figure ; 

And, like Othello, " on this hint I speak." 

The doggrel " is not in the bond," I own, 

But let a wish to please, its haste atone. 

Yet as I know, and willingly confess, 

How much we need the garnish of the press — 

Suppose to-morrow come, the breakfast laid, 

The morning paper brought in by the maid, 

Who leaves her master to his meditations 

On the Debates —Finance and Foreign nations ; 

Next comes M The Drama" — " Murray's Benefit" — 

" A bumper, crammed Boxes, Gallery, and Pit ; 

For, in addition to his own vast claims, 

The officers had kindly given their names, 

And re-appeared in what, on Tuesday night, 

Had, as we stated, given such delight ; 

For backed by Boys, L'Estrange, Dane, Gerard, Ede, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 105 

The Country Squire couldn't but succeed. 

The curtain down, the manager appeared, 

And was, as usual, vehemently cheered. 

He seemed affected — but recovered — then 

Made the old start — Ladies and gentlemen, 

If in my speech I stumble, halt, or pause, 

Impute it to my feelings — (Great Applause)— 

For well I know, my friends, a Scottish nation 

Is ever candid — (Peals of approbation) ; 

And though I want those talents, — (Shouts of ' No. 1 

Mingled with laughter, and some one's of ' Oh,') — 

I'm not deficient in that gratitude, — 

(Here Mr Murray wept and seemed subdued,) — 

Which tells my anxious bosom night and day, 

My utmost labours never can repay 

The debt, I warmly feel, I owe to you, 

(And by this time, the house felt warmly too). 

What can insolvents do in such condition, 

But do as I do now, with all submission, 

Offer my friends a composition, 

Which, weighed against the brilliant prospect round, 

Is worth about a farthing in the pound .?" 

(You should not have laughed there my friends, because 

That point is in the paper marked "Applause.") 

" Murray was going on, but here a yell 

Arose of ' Quite enough,' — i Off, off/ — and ' Sentinel.' 

For all impatient for the amateurs, 

The house no more his poetry endures. 

In vain he tried their feelings to assail, 

His accents perished 'midst the rising gale ; 

In vain he beat his heart, and raised his head, 

For no one heard a syllable he said ; 

Till, in the pauses of the angry squall 

He screamed aloud, ' Kind Friends, I thank you all,' 

And, then, his noble face suffused with tears, 

Bowed and retired — saying 'Don't forget the cheers.' " 



106 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
April 21, 1841. 
( Theatre- Royal. ) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — If it is a duty to speak no ill 
of the dead, it should be equally imperative not to asperse the 
dying, and I appear before you to clear the character of the 
season, now so near its expiry, from an imputation which has 
been cast upon it. It has been called a failure I a charge 
which must be extremely painful to the feelings of any season 
of respectability, particularly one which has descended from a 
very long and ancient line of ancestry, and which, from the 
first night of its existence to this, its last, has strenu- 
ously exerted itself to maintain the fair fame of its progenitors, 
and gain your approbation. To be thus, then, in its last 
moments, kicked from the stage, and sent to "the tomb of all 
the Capulets," with the foul stigma, failure, tacked to its tail, is 
cruel and unjust. It may not have been a mine of wealth, 
not an El Dorado certainly, but it has not been a failure, or if 
one, all I can say is, that failures are very snug, little specula- 
tions, and I care not how often I meet with such reverses. 
The commencement of the season was splendid. Van Amburgh 
and his zoologicals carried all before them, and certainly, for a 
time, left very little behind them ; for as two heads are better 
than one, so four legs have proved more attractive than two, 
and his brutes drove ours from the field. But we felt no envy, 
for they were magnificent actors certainly ! Such nature ! 
such truth ! such powers of execution ! and though they did 
now and then give themselves unpleasant airs, yet we re- 
gretted their departure, and sighed — 

" When, like the baseless fabric of a vision, 
The mane-clad lions, the spotted leopards, 
The roaring tigers, the great cage itself, 
Yea, all which it inherited, dissolved, 
And, like an unsubstantial pageant, fading, 
Left not a tail behind." 

To keep up the splendour of such a start was impossible, and as 
a bright morning frequently forbodes a gloomy day, and a pre- 
cocious child as often degenerates into a very dull man, so we, 
for a time, suffered a reaction. Even Harlequin hid his di- 
minished head, but the immortal Shakespeare came to our aid, 
and all was well again. If there has been a failure, it has 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 107 

been but a comparative one. We may not have made all we 
intended to make, but we are perfectly satisfied, and truly 
grateful for what we have made, sincerely wishing that, in 
such trying times, all theatres may have been equally for- 
tunate. As I am particularly anxious, ladies and gentlemen, 
for reasons which I am sure you will appreciate, that the 
amusements of this evening should terminate at as early an 
hour as possible, I would not trespass longer on your patience, 
did I not feel that I should be neglectful to you and to myself 
did I suffer the retirement of Mr Mackay from this theatre to 
pass unnoticed and unregretted. After twenty-two years of 
honourable service, he this evening ceases to be a member of 
the regular company. It would be impertinent in me to ex- 
patiate on Mr Mackay 's professional merit. Your approbation 
and the approbation of Edinburgh is no light meed. Your 
approbation has placed him foremost in the foremost ranks of 
his profession, and he had the honour to embody the concep- 
tions of a Scott, while that master-mind remained to acknow- 
ledge and applaud the actor's talent. If I might be permitted 
a little doggrel I would add to the lines which I said of 
Macklin's Shylock — 

" He was the Jew 
That Shakespeare drew, 
So, in Mackay, we likewise find 
The Bailie of Sir Walter's mind." 
The success of the far-famed opera of Rob Roy enabled Mrs 
Henry Siddons to establish the Edinburgh Theatrical Fund — 
a fund which now alleviates the age and infirmities of several 
who once figured on these boards, and I hope we will never 
forget that to my esteemed friend Mackay's admirable persona- 
tion of the Bailie that success was mainly attributable. May 
every happiness and good fortune attend him wherever he 
goes. I shall no farther intrude than to contradict the report 
that I am going to pass the summer at the North Pole. It is 
a mistake ; I am not going there — I am going to the Adelphi, 
where, on Saturday, the 22d of May next, we hope to be 
honoured with the renewal of your favour and support. To 
the Most Worshipful Master and Officers of the Grand Lodge, 
and to the other brethren, who have this evening honoured me 
with their patronage, I beg leave to return my best acknow- 
ledgments ; and, offering the same to all our patrons, present, 
or not present, I very respectfully make my bow. 



108 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
(AddpM.) 

On Tuesday evening the season closed with the Manager's 
benefit, on which occasion he performed, for the first time, and 
in the most admirable manner, the part of Sir Anthony Abso- 
lute, in Sheridan's delightful comedy of the " The Rivals." A 
variety of other amusements followed ; and certainly not the 
least entertaining effort of the evening was the following clever 
dramatic scene, in the shape of a " Farewell Address by Murray 
& Con- 
joint-stock farewell address FOR OCTOBER 26, 1841, 

(Enter Mr Lloyd, peeping in.) 
May I come in ? Murray's not ready yet, 
And won't be for some minutes ; so, pray let 
Your humble servant, Lloyd, beguile the time 
Till our Great Gun lets off his Annual Rhyme, 
Ramm'd down with " Gratitude" and all those rockets 
With which he burns such holes in all your pockets. 
Faith, he's a deep one — but I don't see why 
We shouldn't be allowed to say " Good Bye ;" 
And with the Manager all take a part 
In u The FarewelV — an actor has a heart, 
And surely honest gratitude may swell it 

As much as Zounds, here's Murray 

(Running off, is stopped by Mrs Tellet.) 

Airs Tellett— No, its Tellett. 
We all behind have heard, and like your plan ; 
Nor is there one — lady or gentleman — 
From Glover, he who sweeps the tragic lyre, 
Down to the swain who sweeps the stage, Macquire, 
Who won't forestall the Manager, and each 
Club bows and curtseys, in a Joint Stock Speech' 
Mr Lloyd — But what said Euston ? 
Mrs Tellett — He the joke enjoyed. 

Mr Lloyd — But will he join us in it? 

(Enter Mr Euston.) 

Mr Euston — Won't I, Lloyd ? 

The ranks of pleasantry I gladly swell — 
My motto ever, " Vive le Bagatelle /" 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 109 

(Enter Mr Glover and Miss E. Lee.) 
Mr Glover — And to assist the jest let two appear 
Who were, as strangers, kindly welcomed here. 
(Enter Miss Nicol and Mr Leigh.) 
Miss Nicol — And tho' no stranger, still a claim is mine 
For years of service, and for " Auld Langsyne." 

(Enter Mr and Mrs Boyce, and Mrs Turnbull.) 
Mr Boyce — Can you admit three more ? 

Mr Lloyd — With pleasure, Boyce, 

Success is sure if Turnbull gives her voice. 

(Enter Mr Ryder and Mr Power.) 
Mr Ryder — If you want voices, what think you of mine ? 
I play the " Tyrants" — 

Mr Power — I, the " Heavy Line.'''' 
Mr Lloyd — Most Welcome, Power, you'll give us great 
weight. 

(Enter Mr Williams as Pardon Dodge the Yankee.) 
Mr Williams — And Pardon Dodge may help, I calculate, 
Although I own that he's tarnation bigger. 

(Enter Mr Cowell as Jim Crow.) 
Mr Cowell — Can you let in " a Scientific Nigger." 
Mr Lloyd— yes, let all approach, " Black Spirits and 
Grey."* 

(The rest of the Company enter to the Chorus from Macbeth,) 
" Mingle, mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may." 

Mr Euston — Now for the Joint Stock Speech, say, who 
shall try ? 

(All one after another, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, and I.) 
Mr Lloyd — No want of Z's, and very bright ones too. 

—(Glancing at Mrs Tellett.) 
Mrs Tellett — Nonsense! — but one alone can speak. 
Mr Glover, Then you. 

(Loud cries of " You, you, yes you." 
Mr Lloyd leads Mrs Tellett forward.) 
Mrs Tellett — Ladies and Gentlemen, since Sappho flung 
Her wild notes to the waters — woman's tongue 
Has been invincible — ever has will 
And volubility atoned for skill ; 
Whether in Single Blessedness, her fears 
And hopes she murmurs in a lover's ears, 
Or, on the sterner Matrimonial State, 
K 



HO FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

She raves like winter round a husband's pate ; 
Still has she borne the palm — oh that to-night 
The like success may crown the trembling wight, 
Who now by these deputed to reveal — 
(She hesitates') — deputed to reveal — 
Mr Lloyd — (Prompting her) — the Gratitude — 
Mrs Tellett — The Gratitude — 

Mr Lloyd — We feel — 

Mrs Tellett — We feel — 

Mr Lloyd — (Lost in a reverie)— -The Soup ! 

Mrs Tellett — (Turning indignantly) — The what ! how can 
you so annoy ? 

That's not the Speech that's in the " WorJchouse Boy." 
(The Manager calls without " Nimmo") 
Mr Lloyd— Hush ! Tellett, " by the pricking of my thumbs, 
Something uncommon wicked this way comes." 
For goodness' sake, kind Patrons, don't betray us, 
If Murray finds us out, he'll never pay us. 

(The Manager enters, and all escape except Mr Lloyd?) 

Mr Murray—"^ tu, Brute" To find you thus 

employed 

Stealing my Speech, " Frailty thy name is Lloyd/ " 

Mr Lloyd — (Crying) — Oh, don't be angry, Tellett made 
us do it. 

Mr Murray — Beware of Petticoats or else you'll rue it. 
But, with your brethren, haste to Shakespeare Square, 
And, by your conduct through the winter there 
Regain my favour, and this trick repair, 

Mr Lloyd — (Aside as he exits) — We've done the Manager. 

Mr Murray — Yes, Lloyd — I may 

Say with the bold Iago in the Play, 
" Who steals my purse steals trash," but they 
Who filch from me my " Farewell Speech" succeed 
In leaving me extremely poor indeed. 
And at a moment, too, when I most need 
Words to express my thanks for favours cast 
O'er many seasons, and, not least, the last. 
'Gainst fearful odds I own we took the plain. 
Cordonnier's Wax Work — Politics and Rain. 
While, to increase the number of our foes, 
Play House on Play House in the High Street rose. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 1 1 1 

Small chance could the Adelphi have, if any 

'Gainst " Concerts Threepence," and u a Play a Penny ! ! !" 

But worse than these, the fearful agitation 

Of Whig and Tory which then shook the nation. 

Thoughtless of theatres, they flew about — 

The " General Question " only " In or Out." 

Mere plays had no attractions for their souls — 

Elections were the true Magnetic Polls. 

Amidst such scenes, I thought our close would see 

Your servant in a sad minority. 

But no — by your support, again I meet 

My kind constituents, and retain my seat — 

Retain it with this great advantage too, 

I've paid myself instead of bribing you, 

Saying, with Jack, that Knight of sack and honey, 

" I'm very glad lads we've got the money." 

Then, let me hope you're all content to see 

Murray once more returned your own M.P. 

Let no adverse appeal a man disgrace 

"Who would not stand for any other place. 

So, keep me with you ; with my utmost skill 

I'll watch o'er each dramatic act and bill, 

Nor take, till time and you my efforts chide, 

The Chiltern Hundreds of my fire-side — 

Where sometimes I may cheer the fading hours 

With thought of what I was, when I was — yours. 

Meantime be well assured, 1*11 ne'er forget 

Full thirty years of kindness — so, pray, let 

A show of hands, the sixth of next November, 

Greet me in Shakespeare Square, your sitting member ; 

And not your member only; let me be 

First Lord of the Dramatic Treasury, 

Where, in your cause, new "Budgets" I'll devise, 

And nightly move you to vote " New Supplies ;" 

And if success my future efforts cheer, 

I'll hold the plan I've followed many a year, 

Placing the profits to your credit here — {Touching his heart.) 



112 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

April 15, 1842. 

( Theatre-Royal?) 

mr Murray's benefit. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — In theatrical matters, as in 

political, the world may be divided into two great parties, 

namely, "the Ins" and " the Outs" and you will at once 

perceive why the manager of a theatre, like the far-famed vicar 

of Bray, should be the humble servant of the Ins, whatever 

political party or parties those Ins may happen to belong to. 

The feelings and the gratifications of these aforesaid Ins should 

ever be the paramount consideration of the aforesaid manager ; 

and yet how often, ladies and gentlemen, on the occasion of a bad 

benefit, or the conclusion of an indifferent season, do we see 

an actor or a manager coming forward, and with moody brow 

and lack-lustre eye, visiting upon the good-natured and 

friendly Ins the defalcations of the stony-hearted Outs. If by 

such grumblings we could, like able financiers, touch the 

pockets of the absentees without annoying the feelings of the 

present hees and shees, then would I exclaim with Lear — 

" Blow winds and crack your cheeks — rage louder yet, 

Spout cataracts, and hurricanes fall, 

Till you have drowned the towns and palaces 

Of these said Out-and-0 titers." 

But as this is impossible, the result of such complaints is too 
frequently to offend our supporters, and literally turn our insides 
out. With these convictions, ladies and gentlemen, I present 
myself before you this evening ; and although I cannot claim 
the garlands of a successful campaign, I shall not indulge the 
•' melting mood" but averaging the result of my labours and 
your favours for the last ten years, sincerely thank you, and all 
who have honoured me with their support during that period, 
for a very snug and comfortable "balance in favour." To 
borrow another mercantile phrase, theatres, especially the large 
ones, are looking down ; for which depression many causes may 
be given — and one in particular, the late hour of fashionable 
parties ; for the man who sits down to dinner at seven o'clock 
must, of necessity, cut his mutton and the theatre at the same 
time ; and with a sharp appetite, I would back mutton against 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 113 

Shakespeare at any odds. Thus the dinner table depopulates 
our first prices, and as one evil generates another, the drawing- 
room ruins our second — for who would leave the attractions of 
a modern soiree, with its bevy of beauties — its gas — its songs, 
quadrilles, tableaux vivans, and all the thousand and one 
attractions which throw a fairy charm over the private parties 
of present days — who would leave them, I say, on a snowy 
night, to see a few shivering actors striving to be funny to the 
as few deluded individuals, whom the astounding mysteries of 
a long play-bill have inveigled into our clutches ? What is to 
be done to remedy this evil I know not — for even if Kemble 
himself were here for a whole seasou, I'd back the dinners 
against him in the long run. To ask you to give up your 
dinners would be ridiculous, and yet without some change we 
must give up ours. If you, gentle ladies, don't dine a little 
earlier, 

"Macbeth must dine no more." 

I thankfully acknowledge that during Mr and Mrs Charles 
Kean's engagement, dinners seemed at a discount ; but, then, 
three week's of prosperity barely recompenses months of depres- 
sion, particularly as, though man and wife are of one flesh, they 
contrive, professionally, to have two pockets ; and between the 
Scylla of the one, and the Charybdis of the other, the manager 
gets anything but the lion's share. If, during a future season, 
anything could be done to mitigate the dinner epidemic, we 
shall be truly grateful — if not, we must again put our shoulders 
to the wheel, and trust to the chapter of accidents for better 
fortune. As for myself, I repeat, ladies and gentlemen, that 
the failure of a season or two cannot mar my fortunes or in- 
fluence my feelings, which have ever been, and ever will 
be, those of profound respect and regard for you, my very kind 
friends and patrons — sentiments in which, I am sure, the great 
bulk of my company join me ; and with heartfelt wishes for 
your health and happiness, we, for the brief vacation of a fort- 
night, respectfully take our leave. 



2k 



114 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October 21, 1842. 

(Adelphl) 

4 ' To go or not to go — that was the question."— 

Whether 'twas better on our part to suffer 

The toils and hazards of a Winter Season ; 

Or to take leave of managerial cares, 

And, by resigning, end them ? resign ! to go 

No more ; and by that go— one go — to end 

The heartache, and the weekly, nightly, loss 

The purse was heir to. — 'Twas a consummation 

Extremely to be wished. — To cut, and run, — 

But run, perchance, to worse ; — aye, there's the rub 5 

For in that run what accidents might chance, 

When we had shuffled off the Patent here, 

Did make us pause. There's the respect, 

Makes management of so long life : 

For who would bear the fag both day and night, 

The long rehearsal and the empty bench, 

The wipes in the newspapers, the critic's scorn, 

The Fnend Anonymus, and bitter taunt 

Which manager must oft from actors take, 

When he himself might his quietus make 

By merely running ? Who with painted smiles 

And forced grimace could such a life endure, 

But that the dread of something worse behind, 

And the conviction, that to friends thus used 

No manager returns, — puzzles his pate, 

And makes him rather stick to what he's got 

Than fly to theatres he knows not of ? 

Thus would the Danish Prince have thought, had he 
An actor been, or manager like me ; 
Like me have paused, ere quit a spot endeared 
By friends, whose many kindnesses have cheered 
Seasons as big with loss as this. What then ? 
Seasons have changed before, and may again ; 
Future attempts the past may reimburse, 
And, praise the stars, no future can be worse. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 1 1 3 

Trade has been very dull throughout the town, 
Shakespeare and shopkeepers both looking doivn ; 
The Foreign Market too's been most appalling, 
And Rain, the only article not falling. 

In such dry weather, 'twas in vain you know, 

Work as we would, to hope an overflow ; 

So far from overflowing, much I fear, 

Had Miss O'Neil, or Siddon's self been here, 

You hadn't water for a single tear. 

Rivers ran dry, and millions frantic, when 

They saw no " tide in the affairs of men," 

An angry thirst each citizen inflames, 

Yet not a drop to liquidate his claims. 

" The Water Company," in doleful dumps, 

Found itself drained, like me and other Pumps ; 

Both were so empty, nought could go beyond 

My Pits, except their Compensation Pond. 

Still let us hope the best — some change of weather 

May fill the Ponds and Playhouses together — 

At all events, the war once more we'll wage, 

11 And fret and strut our winter on the stage," 

Nailing our tattered colours to the mast, 

Fight for a better season than the last. 

But if to Balls and Concerts forced to yield, 

And Mid-night dinners drive us from the field, 

At least, " We'll die with harness on our backs," 

And losing all, defy the Income-Tax. 

Should acting fail, my varlets may resign 

The down trod stage, and try some other line. 

Glover can paint — the call-boy turn postillion, 

Cowell and Lloyd try " Singing for the Million." 

But for your humble servant, I'm afraid, 

'Tis much too late to learn another trade ; 

Then, kindly, let me serve my time out here, 

Treat me as Tait would, that famed auctioneer, 

And, though # damaged article I own, 

Still keep me "going" till indeed I'm "gone." 



116 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 



AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS- 

February 17, 1843. 

( Theatre-Royal.') 

UNDER THE PATRONAGE OF THE DEAN AND FACULTY 
OF ADVOCATES. 

Dear Mr Dewar, for one moment, pray, 
Lay down your fiddle, I've a word to say ; 
And while I yet the privilege may claim 
Accorded to a lady's sex and name, 
While, lawyer-like, against the critics' frown, 

I claim protection from my wig and gown, 
Pardon these few remarks, — too shy by far, 
Perhaps too cautious to address the bar, 

To gentler hearts I make this night's appeal- 
Will not the ladies for a sister feel ? 
Alas ! 'tis long since I have seen so bright 
And fair a train as sparkle here to-night. 
" Lone, unattended, melancholy, slow," 
Through these deserted halls I nightly go. 
In vain to get up an " at home " I've striven : 

II Miss Murray begs your company at seven — 
A few old friends, some music — nothing more." 
In vain — all vote my company a bore ; 

Yet, ladies, is it not extremely hard 

Such invitations meet with your regard ? 

My music surely nothing can surpass ; 

My floors are cleaned ; I burn the best of gas ; 

My doors stand opon ; yet 'tis very clear 

That all the world goes everywhere — but here. 

When on my friends I make my morning call, 

I'm sure to hear of last night's crowded ball, 

Of exhibitions which no mortal sees, 

And concerts where you're smother'd in a squeeze. 

Remorseless sons of Orpheus and of Strauss, 

Teach me the way to win a crowded house — 

I'll turn Mainzerian if the ladies please, 

And stun your ears with do's, and sol's, and si's ; 

We'll sing for millions with undaunted throats, 

If that will win you to produce your notes. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 117 

But cease complaint— you're here at least to-night, 
And my heart kindles at the unwonted sight, 
Nor you alone — for following in your train, 
The sons of Themis crowd to Thespis' fane. 
Oh ! ladies, would you always use your powers 
To woo these lawyers from their mystic bowers, 
Bringing them here, but once a week, to sit 
And laugh a little at our Shakespeare's wit, 
You'd give yourselves, and me, a benefit. 
I've said my say, and pray you to receive 
My warmest thanks, ere yet I take my leave ; 
A brighter audience I never saw — - 
The bar of beauty, and the bar of law. 
This night, at least, I do not take my stand 
With empty benches ranged on either hand ; 
But with full heart, and eye of conscious pride, 
See beauty, wisdom, worth, on every side, 
And make, while yet my faultering words allow, 
To bench and bar with gratitude my bow, — 
Curtsey, I mean. Excuse my agitation, 
And spare a lady in this situation. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
Mat 29, 1843. 

(Theatre-Royal.) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — I have been lately occupied in 
collecting the various addresses I have had the honour of de- 
livering before you during the last— dare I confess — thirty 
years. Don't fear, my kind friends and patrons, that this de- 
claration is put forth as, what is professionally termed " a 
feeler" preparatory to the astounding advertisement — u In 
the press, and shortly to be published." No, no, ladies and 
gentlemen, your constant kindness has not yet so entirely 
spoiled me, but that I am fully aware that these little bits of 
managerial elocution are but the " insects of a day ;" or, per- 
haps, I should say, the glow worms of a night, sparkling 
through the gloom which must ever, more or less, accompany 
the word " farewell," and are indebted for the approbation be- 
stowed upon them, much more to your good nature than any 
merits of their own. 



118 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

My motives, ladies and gentlemen, for the collection and re- 
reading of these valedictory gems, was to avoid, if possible, 
" the sin of repetition," and to put my thanks and adieus, on 
the present occasion, in a somewhat new light ; but, alas! when 
I behold the tremendous M.S. of congenial foolscap, on the 
pages of which my past labours were reposing — when I read 
one after another the multitudinous addresses I had perpetrated, 
finding, as Pope sings — 

" That all my prose and verse were much the same, 
This prose on stilts, that poetry fallen lame," 
I stood aghast, and, like fear in Collins* " Ode on the 
Passions," recoiled 

" E'en from the speech myself had made." 
In vain I essayed a new one. I was like the unfortunate 
clergyman, whose plagiarisms were so mercilessly detected by 
one of his auditors constantly exclaiming — " that's Tillotson " 
— " that's Butler " — " that's Blair " — so, as I cogitated and 
concatenated sentence after sentence, memory, like Launcelot's 
fiend, stood at my elbow, whispering, " that's in your farewell 
1 839, see ' Courant ' — ditto, ' Mercury, 1840 ' — * Scotsman, 
1841 ' — ' Evening Post, 1842,' " until now, by repeated failure, 
I was tempted by the fiend to show my speechifying a fair 
pair of heels, and run for it ; but " conscience" hanginy about 
the neck of my heart, said, " do not run, manager, scorn 
running with thy heels ; you have made many a bad speech 
before now, try another, and hope the best." The word " hope, 11 
that little word u hope," struck upon my ear, there seemed 
something like originality in combining hope with anything so 
utterly hopeless as a theatre now-a-days, and upon the hint 
" my muse laboured," and as Iago says, u thus, she is 
delivered." 

As Campbell teaches in his earliest lay, 

'Tis hope that gladdens life's unmeasured way, 

Lending, like distance, rapture to the view, 

And robing mountains in its azure hue. 

" Fine words, brave words," as Falstaff says, but then 

There comes a period in our journey, when 

Of theatres about to be bereft, 

A manager finds very little distance left ; 

And if the azure hills are gained at last, 

They prove but rocky foregrounds like the past. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 119 

Hope makes her curtsey, while we trembling see 

Her colours fade into reality ; 

And like the western sky's declining light, 

Our day-dreams gloom and sadden into night. 

With disappointed hearts we seek the bed, 

Stretch the worn limb and rest the aching head ; 

But when the morn the orient hour brings, 

We don our clothes, replume our ruffled wings, 

Rising elate, forget the bye-gone sorrow, 

Lured en by hope, and that false friend, " to-morrow" 

Yet, hope — though stern experience may flout thee — 

What would this " worlcing-day-world " be without thee ? 

Man's heart to thee is still a tablet votive ; 

If life's a railroad, hope's the locomotive. 

And if through murky glens we sometimes wind, 

By frowning rocks, " cribbed, cabined, and confined ;" 

Yet, as with lightning speed, she onward flies, 

Some high embankment lifts us to the skies ; 

And the Cimmerian tunnel's gloom gives way 

To the succeeding splendours of the day. 

E'en such a tunnel, darksome, long, and drear, 

Has been, indeed, our past dramatic year ; 

E'en such a burst from gloom to dazzling light 

Is the resplendent prospect of to-night, 

Which banishes past failure altogether, 

As radiant sunsets promise better weather. 

Our case was hopeless ; Miller shook his head, 

And Malcolm looked on theatres as dead. 

But if a few such nightly draughts you'll give 

As this, they'll prove a great restorative. 

A few such boxes filled with golden pills, 

Mixed by the press with oxymtl of quills, 

Will work a cure, and we'll the war renew, 

Trusting to Mrs Dr Hope, the quills, and you. 

One word before we part — say, can you quite 

Forgive the tragic effort of to-night ? 

It was a trespass, and I can but say 

With the mis-shapen tyrant in the play, 

11 E'en all mankind to some lov'd ills incline;* 



* Mr Murray had this evening attempted the character of Shylock 
in the " Merchant of Venice." 



120 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Great men choose greater sins " — old Shylock mine. 
" Til throw myself upon the court ;" pray, then, 
As Portia counselled, " grant me mercy," when 
I promise never to offend again. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

August 25, 1843. 

(Adelphi.') 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — It once again becomes my 
pleasurable duty to offer my very best thanks to you, and all 
who have honoured us with their support during the season, 
which the amusements of this evening will terminate. It is 
doubtless very gratifying to boast of successful efforts, and I 
thank those who have crowded round us in our hours of sun- 
shine ; but I suspect that a deeper and even more grateful feeling 
prevades the heart, when it attempts to acknowledge the kind- 
ness of those who rally round and support us when fortune 
frowns, and we have been, as Jaquez says, 

" Left and abandoned by our velvet friends." 
At least I can safely say, such are the sentiments which prompt 
me now ; for, though I will not deny that our losses have been 
somewhat heavy, I deeply feel that they would have been 
infinitely more so but for your kindness, for which again and 
again I respectfully offer you my thanks. 

I will now, ladies and gentlemen, request your patience for a 
few moments, while I allude to the recent correspondence be- 
tween your humble servant and the proprietors of the Theatre- 
Eoyal, Liverpool. As Campbell says, 

" 'Tis the sunset of life gives us mystical lore 
And coming events cast their shadows before;" 
and as I am a little in the sun-set line, my "prophetic souV 
has often warned me that I may have been too constantly before 
you, and that it was quite possible that you — pardon my vanity 
— had had too much of a very good thing. With these feelings, 
I thought that a temporary absence — mark my words, I beg, 
ladies and gentlemen — might be advantageous to both parties, 
and therefore addressed the proprietors of the Liverpool Theatre, 
then lately closed, asking if they would let it to me for two 
months. This they declined, but offered a longer lease, on such 
liberal terms, that I confess I was staggered. Now, ladies and 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 121 

gentlemen, let me beg, that when naming the sum I have 
hitherto paid for the Theatre-Royal here, I may not be sup- 
posed to use the language of complaint ; far from it — the bar- 
gain was openly and fairly entered into, and had the times re- 
mained as favourable for theatrical speculations as they had 
previously been, I should have had no cause for regretting the 
transaction ; but when you consider the altered circumstances 
of the country, and that, with the exception of one season, I 
had annually paid L.1290 for the Theatre-Royal, you will not 
wonder that I should hesitate to throw away a very advantage- 
ous offer from such a place as Liverpool. I therefore laid that 
offer before Mrs Henry Siddons, who having, unknown to me, 
previously considered my burdens, immediately proposed so 
liberal a reduction in the rent as would prevent my being finally 
compelled to leave a city where I had passed my days from 
the age of nineteen to fifty-three — this very day — in the proud 
enjoyment of your favour. Led on by Mammon, I now con- 
templated the practicability of uniting the two establishments, 
Liverpool, in its best time, having a summer theatre. But 

11 These airy phantoms of my avarice " 

seem swept away by the stern reality of a new act of Parlia- 
ment, entitled, " The Theatres' Regulation Bill" which, threat- 
ening to overturn the privileges of all patent theatres out of 
London, with the exception of Dublin, has compelled a pause 
in all our arrangements, until the provisions of the bill are 
more fully known. We have petitioned the House of Lords, 
begging that for the remaining seven years of our patent we 
may not be deprived of rights for which we have paid so heavily, 
and which were guaranteed us by a special act of Parliament. 
I still hope that our petition has been attended to : but till our 
fate is known, I can proceed no further. A few days must 
decide all, In the meantime, allow me to repeat my acknow- 
ledgments for all the favours you have conferred upon me 
during the many years I have had the pride and pleasure to 
be in your service, and permit me very respectfully to bid you, 
for the present, and I am proud and happy to say, only for the 
present — farewell. 



122 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 

April 15, 1844. 

( Theatre-Royal?) 

On Friday night the performances, which were " As You 
Like It " and " High Life Below Stairs, " were patronised by 
the Dean and Faculty of Advocates; and the dress circle pre- 
sented a galaxy of beauty and fashion. The other parts of the 
house were also crowded. We observed in the boxes the Lord 
Justice-General, Lords Cockburn, Fullerton, Cuninghame, 
Ivory, Wood, and Robertson, Professor Wilson, the Solicitor- 
General, Mr Rutherfurd, and Mr Maitland (late Lord-Advocate 
and Solicitor-General), and a number of other eminent mem- 
bers of the Faculty. At the close of the comedy, Miss Faucit 
was loudly called before the curtain. As the lady made her 
exit at the one side, the Manager peeped in at the other to 
speak an " Occasional Address. " His appearance called forth 
another volley of applause, when advancing cautiously to the 
front of the stage, he proceeded (at first sotte voce) as follows : — 

May I now ask the favour to be heard ? 

I'll not detain you long, only one word. 

For I am puzzled. Ere I sought my bed 

Last night, a friend dropped kindly in, and said — 

" Murray, my boy — I think 'twill be but right 

That you should speechify to-morrow night. " 

— "To-morrow — speechify — what can I say?" 

" 0, something devilish neat about the play, 

Then touch the passing topics of the day, — 

Shakespeare, Miss Faucit, Military Ball, 

And splendid Supper in the Music Hall — 

Gas, Steam, Hydropathy, Indian Expedition — 

Scott Monument, Steele's Statue, and the Exhibition — 

Wilson's Queen Mary, and then something clever, 

On Braham, and the plants that bloom for ever — 

Don't stare, I have a legal friend, whose pen 

Now pours you forth an epilogue, and then 

With equal skill an ode or charge of horning, 

He'll knock up something for you ere the morning. " 

And so he has prosy beyond belief 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 123 

And long as what you lawyers call a brief— -(unrolling an enor- 
mous sheet of paper) — 

I might have pled, and such was first my notion, 

The want of proper notice of this motion ; 

And, backed by Beveridge and Darling's Practice, 

Claimed two days warning, as I know the Act is. 

But then again, had I refused to come, 

That awkward Nobile Cfficium 

Of yours, perchance, had dragged me into court 

With two plethoric macers for support — 

And these are gentleman whose grisly charms 

I'd rather not see quartered on my arms. 

But, really, for the speech 'tis very clear 

The author must be — stay — he may be here — 

Numberless writers round about I see, 

Yet none who seem to deal in poetry. 

It's a peculiar phiz and well I know it, 

The long, lank, sallow visage of the poet. 

Can that be — [Looking hard at a corner of the upper boxesj — 
No, his face too round has grown, 

As fat and unpoetic as my own — 

It wants the hue of thought — the flashing levin, 

Kindling the eye that darts from earth to heaven. 

That's he — [Pointing to the ceutre of the first gallery]— that 
intellectual looking man. 

Well, since he's here, I'll not minutely scan 

The merits of his speech — 'Tis full of flaws, 

And dry a morsel to digest as Shaw's. 

Good prosing for an Ordinary's bar- 
Crammed ;vith hard words and a most learned war 

Of texts and authors, where you are referred, 

Stair — Title first — Booh second — Chapter third! — 

And this — when at his hand was such a theme 

As we have now to fire a poet's dream ! 

The Helen which our Modern Athens carries, 

As ancient Helen did the heart of Paris, 

A few well written lines in such a cause 
Would have secured me thunders of applause, 
Could the poor prosy dullard nothing find 
To say of Juliet, Portia, Rosalind — 
Of Nina Sforza, Julia, Imogene — 



] 24 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Had he no feeling of the mimic scene 

Where the bard's fire the youthful actress caught, 

And Faucit realised what Shakespeare taught. 

Oh, I've no patience with the man (rolling up the paper), and 

cannot vent 
On you, my friends, a writ of such extent. 
Next time I'm brought before the bar, or see 
With greater pleasure the bar brought to me, 
I'll get some learned Theban to indite 
Some sparkling stanzas worthy of the night. 
And now, my learned friends, before we part, 
Accept the thanks I offer from the heart — 
Offer to all, who've kindly brought together 
Such beauty and such talent in such weather. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
May 31, 1844. 
( Theatre-Royal.) 
Shakespeare, who wrote not for a single age, 
" But for all time" said " All the world's a stage f* 
And, if correct, you own the definition. 
Does not so wide, so vast a competition 
At once explain why theatres of late 
Have somewhat fallen from their former state ? 
You'll say I'm wrong — it being clearly seen 
That what the world is now, the world has been 
For many a day. Then, why should actors fall 
Just now — and in the world no change at all? 
Why should the drama now be less the rage, 
Yet the world certainly no more a stage ; 
Its men and women no more players than 
They were of yore, when first that world began ? 
Now, that's the point on which we differ, and 
On that point I numbly take my stand 
To prove, the truth of what I sadly fear, 
That you are getting better actors every year. 
Pray, don't mistake ; not getting better actors here, 
But in yourselves, from parlour up to attic, 
You're privately becoming more dramatic. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 125 

A dinner party's now a choice display, 

Of all the visitors can do or say ; 

And you're invited for no other thing, 

But the dear tales you tell, and songs you sing. 

Then only think, friends, what a pretty state is 

A theatre in, against such dinners, gratis. 

Why, Lloyd and Cowell, both ar'n't worth a button, 

Opposed to amateurs, backed up by mutton. 

Nay, even charity adopts our trade, 

Painting and dressing for a masquerade. 

Once theatres were matrimonial marts 

For the display and sale of female hearts. 

Now, at the soiree, Mamma sets the snare, 

With which she captivates the youthful heir ; 

While Miss at the piano softly tries 

To nail the trembling youth with " love has eyes" 

Thus, change of fashion has of late bereft us 

Of many aids ; and some old friends have left us. 

Alas! there's Wilson, Mr Phillips, Braham, 

Against these once beloved walls array 'em, 

Fly to the Music Hall, and there by turns, 

Have " nights with Charlie Stuart" — "Mary" — " Burns" 

Til!, as you off from one to other hurry, 

You've not a moment for " a night with Murray" 

And then, tho' last, yet certainly not least, 

Bedecked with " gems from Scott?' to crown the feast, 

Melodious Templeton, with native feeling, 

Comes " o'er " your pockets, " senses " I mean, "gently 

stealing " 
And giving me a lesson, to my cost, how 
I can with pathos warble " all is lost now." 
Aye, you may smile, friends, but 'tis very plain 
To stop our ruin but two ways remain ; 
Either a heavy duty on their throats, 
Or let " the Commons " make us, by its votes, 
The only Bank of Issue for their Notes. 
Still, tho' we've not been full for some weeks past, 
Yet we've done better this year than the last. 
Some stars, indeed, my offers have rejected, 
Nor has the moon behaved as I expected ; 
At least,'_you'll own, it was a wayward fit 

2 L 



126 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Made her discountenance my benefit ; 

Yet, backed by Faucit, Kean, and other aid, 

I frankly own, friends, that the season's paid. 

Nay, I'd confess, the Millions ! ! ! ! we have made, 

Did it not tend to bring upon our backs 

The dread collectors of the income tax. 

Egad, should a commissioner be here, 

I've said already far too much I fear. 

So I'll conclude. Ah ! that's the worst of all, 

Folding one's mantle, gracefully to fall, 

Or neatly winding up a "farewell speech" 

Is a perfection very few can reach. 

I'll not attempt it, lest my efforts fail, 

But end, like Shakespeare's rat, " without a tail" 

Hoping most fervently your hearts may guess 

At feelings words now fail me to express 

As I could wish, or you deserve ; so pray, 

Imagine all your servant ought to say 

For many years of kindness — and believe 

That, while I thus, so lamely, take my leave, 

My deepest, warmest gratitude attends 

On you, my earliest and most constant friends. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
October 21, 1841 

(Adelphi.') 
In times like these when Theatres are crumbling, 
And managers, as usual, with such varlets grumbling, 
It needs, you'll own, some little tact and skill 
To grumble well, and neatly gild the pill ; 
Not to come growling like a Polar bear, 
Bending, with loud complaints, " the troubled air," 
But gently lowing like some injured heifer, 
Or sighing like a discontented Zephyr. 
If you've had losses, let your farewell rhymes 
Not blame " the generous public," but the times ; 
Don't sulk, like Timon in the Athenian Play, 
Or, pouting, scold the stones that strew your way ; 
But prattle o'er the pebbles, like some mountain stream, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 127 

Bounding and sparkling in the morning's beam, 

Which, gaily dancing o'er the gloom below, 

Laughs round the very rocks that check its flow. 

Such is my wish ; nor shall a murmur spoil 

This kindly sunset of our summer's toil. 

The season has been long, the work incessant — 

Unprofitable, but extremely pleasant. 

Your smiles throughout have cheered our mimic pranks, 

For which we offer you our heartfelt thanks. 

Some critics have indeed our cruise assailed, 

Saying, for want of stars our nights have failed ; 

Adding, that Liverpool and Dublin, too, 

Have had their extra galaxies, while you 

Have long become such strangers to their faces, 

" Bravuras" "Pirouettes" and other graces, 

That by such negligence your stage is made 

" Terra Incognita" to all the trade. 

Ladies and gentlemen, when Kemble — Kean — 

Siddons — O'Neill, and Stephens graced the scene — 

When Duncan— Tree — and Mrs Jordan flung 

Their smiles around — when Bannister and Young — 

John Johnstone — Emery — Liston — yearly came, 

With Braham — Incledon — and every name 

Recorded in the histrionic page 

For casting lustre round the British stage, 

Were we " incognita" I pray you, then ? 

And if, comparatively, now, say where's the men ? 

Alas ! if we're indeed " a land unknown," 

Go, bid some spirit raise the moss-clad stone, 

And ask the mouldering ashes he may find, 

Why they have passed, " and left no track behind ?" 

Perchance they'll speak not ; then I plainly will, 

'Tis want of patronage far more than skill 

That weighs us down. Our nobles spare their hoards, 

Unless some fair Signora treads the boards. 

And I confess I scarcely deem it right 

To pay one hundred, aye, and twenty pounds per night, 

That foreign art may through its villas roam, 

While native talent, toils and starves at home, 

Doubling the prices for a week might do, 

Or even, possibly, a week or two ; 



128 FAREWELL ADDRESSES, 

But the exotic flower, pray point the rafter, 
That we could cling to for the season after. 
Your pockets drained — your ears Italianised — 
Your eyes bewildered — and your legs surprised. 

(Suiting the action to the word.) 
And then my pockets — some consideration — 
Not a doit better by the speculation. 
Granting the houses crammed, they would'nt pay ; 
For the bright meteors of the present day, 
Who've reached of popularity the goal, 
Don't share the profits now, but take the whole, 
And leave no glimmering, as they onward bound, 
Like " cotton dips," or " sixes to the pound." 
But I must make my bow — the prompter nods, 
And I see weariness amongst " the Gods." 
So take my thanks once more, and, pray, remember 
" The Royal " opens early in November. 

A BRIEF OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 

April 7, 1845. 

(Theatre-Royal) 
[Mr Murray's first appearance since the death of his sister, 

Mrs Siddons.] 
Ladies and Gentlemen — Excuse my intruding upon your 
time for a few moments, while I endeavour to express the 
great delight I feel, and the grateful sense I shall ever enter- 
tain of the kind proof of your regard and remembrance this 
evening has afforded me. It is unnecessary as it would be 
painful for me to allude to the loss which has made me so 
long a stranger to these boards ; but I may confess that my 
absence has been somewhat lengthened by the growing fear, 
that an almost nightly service of five-and- thirty years might 
have somewhat weaned you. I confess your reception of me 
to-night has dispelled that fear; and I shall take every oppor- 
tunity of again devoting my humble abilities to the service of 
my kind friends and patrons. Ladies and gentlemen, at this 
hour I shall not trespass on your patience further than to re- 
peat my grateful acknowledgments for the compliment you 
have paid me, and respectfully wish yon, for this evening, good 
nighfc. 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 



129 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

April 23, 1815. 

( Theatre-Royal.') 

The house closed for the season on Wednesday evening with 
the Manager's benefit. Miss Faucit appeared as Pauline, and 
Mr Murray as Colonel Damas. The house was crowded. Mr 
Murray delivered the following address : — 

" Custom demands — and who denies her sway ? — 

An epilogue for every five-act-play." 

So Colman wrote ; and, for the self same reason, 

Custom would ask a farewell for the season. 

But ancient customs, now, I'm much afraid, 

Are so knocked up by fashion and free trade, 

That, on my word, I tremble to appear, 

And pay my annual duty, least I hear 

Some beau exclaim, " Oh heavens ! what a bore, 

Here's Murray with his ' farewell speech ' once more. 

What can he say but what he's said before ? 

I've heard the fellow prose so oft, I know, 

Aye to a comma, how the thing will go ; 

He'll enter — make an awkward bow — and then 

Start with his old — ladies and gentlemen, 

With handkerchief in hand— just here, (On his heart) 

Ready to wipe the pre-determined tear, 

And say, in faltering tones — his bosom's cleft 

To part with friends — who've got a shilling left. 

But as he cannot boast a tragic phiz, 

He'll cut the ' pathos,' and essay to quiz 

The present rage for joint-stock speculation, 

Which e'en Lord Brougham can't sweep from out the nation ; 

How quickly men and money you may bury 

By some new rail-road to — the cemetry ; 

How tunnels through the world may work with ease 

An Inland trade with the Antipodes ; 

Or, laughing rail-road travelling to scorn, 

Propose some company as yet unborn, 

But still in embryo, which very soon 

By atmospheric pressure and balloon, 



130 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Will pick you up in London — mount the air — 

Keep you some four-and-twenty hours there ; 

And as the mundane system rolls along, 

Just nick the time, and drop you at Hong-kong. 

The plan's consistent, quite, with common sense — 

Capital, Ten Millions — Shares, Eighteenpence ; 

Or, if you like to pay your money down, 

They'll let you off, perhaps, for Half-a- Crown. 

Thus running through this world of wit and blunders, 

He'll then allude to many other wonders — 

Electric Telegraphs, which tell the news 

Before it has had time to happen, and refuse 

Facts of acknowledged authenticity 

As quite unworthy electricity. 

Should these points fail, he'll touch his benefit, 

Praising Miss Faucit — that's a certain hit ; 

Then he'll wind up in a more serious mood, 

With gratifying — grateful — gratitude — 

A generous public — thanks, words can't express ; 

And there's the whole of his farewell address." 

I must plead guilty — own it's quite my way, 

And very much like what I meant to say. 

For such dull work, your pardon I beseech, 

I've found my error, though I've lost my speech. 

Yet, ere I go, two duties must be paid ; 

First — thanks to you — and then to her, whose aid 

Has cast a halo round our closing scene, 

Bright, as the brightest of the past has been ; 

What younger heads around may hope to see, 

Or older ones retain in memory, 

I know not, but I doubt the future when 

"I ere shall look upon her like again." 

Long may she grace the Thespian boards and page, 

One of the brightest gems upon the British stage. 

If "kindred objects, kindred thoughts inspire, 

As summer clouds flash forth electric fire," 

Should I be deeply censured if I dared 

Allude to one who once your favour shared ? 

Allude to her, who, in years past and gone, 

Amongst the greatest of your favourites shone. 

Oh, well I know, I lack the power and skill 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 131 

To tnne my reed to such a theme — but, still, 
She was the partner of my earliest years — 
Warm'd my young hopes, and stilled my boyish fears — 
Led me on step by step, and placed me — where 

I have so long remained beneath your care. 
To her and you a heavy debt I owe, 

A still-increasing debt, for well I know 
Much of the many favours on me laid 
Are to the memory of the sister paid : 
Then, censure not, if I have rashly dared 
Allude to her who long your favours shared, 
But grant the pardon I most humbly crave 
For this poor tribute to that sister's grave. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
October 22, 1845. 

The season closed on Wednesday with Mr Murray's benefit. 
The principal piece performed was Jerrold's excellent comedy 

II Time Works Wonders/' which, as it has done during all its 
numerous representations on the Edinburgh stage, went off 
with great success. It may be doubted indeed, if the charac- 
ters of Miss Tucker and Goldthumb have found better repre- 
sentatives than Miss Nicol and the manager on any stage in 
Britain. Mr Murray's performance on Wednesday was admi- 
rable down to the minutest detail, and was enthusiastically 
applauded by the audience. The following is the " Farewell 
Address," which the manager delivered in his usual pointed 
and effective style : — 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — I have now been for several 
years engaged in the " Farewell Business, 1 ' and like other 
careful manufacturers, have, from season to season, endea- 
voured so to vary the pattern of my winter and summer stock 
of " Thanks," that they should not weary my customers by 
the sameness of their style or fabric. I have, therefore, always 
tried to express my winter obligations in a good strong well- 
padded speech, lined throughout with the warmest expressions 
gratitude could select; while my summer acknowledgments 
have been conveyed in a light Mousseline-de-laine kind of ma- 
terial, but always in " Fast Colours," " Warranted to Wash,'' 



132 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

and not to fade in any climate, or under any circumstances. 
For some time, I own, I have, aided by your kindness, been 
tolerably successful, and have availed myself of any fashion- 
able folly, any prevailing mania of the day, 

" To point my Farewell^ and adorn my tale." 
But now, alas ! that resource is denied me, for, owing to the 
march of mind, and progress of machinery, the wildest fictions 
of former ages have dwindled into the mere facts of this, and 
what would have been deemed a folly — an absurdity — a ma- 
nia then, is, under present circumstances, the sober serious 
business of life, the air we breathe, the very " Scrip " of our 
existence — the " Premium " which sweetens our respective 
shares in " the Joint Stock Railway" of frail mortality. 

Do not think, ladies and gentlemen, that I am about to 
laugh at railways. No, I rather say with Romeo (assuming 
a serio-comic air) — 

" He jests at Rails who never had a Share." 

And where all men, high and low, are members of the one 
vast Provisional Committee of " the Grand Universal Central 
External and Internal Directly-indirect Money-making-no- 
matter-by-what-means Grand National Junctive and Dis- 
junctive Railway Association," it would be vain to expect that 
any would enjoy a jest which is every day becoming less of a 
joke, and which would induce every shareholder — and where 
is the man, woman, or child, who is not ? — to say in the 
words of the old song — "That was levelled at me." The in- 
tuitive mind of Shakespeare foresaw this empire of hot water ; 
he saw " England in Irons," as the immortal Punch expresses 
it, when he purposed burying the madness of Hamlet in a 
land " Where every man was as mad as he." But why talk 
I of madness. Steam and electricity have, as Coriolanus 
says — 

" Murdered impossibility, 
Making what cannot be, slight work." 

And, ladies and gentlemen, so convinced am I that nothing 
now is impossible, that I am certain, were a Prospectus 
published for " An Atmospheric Railway to the Moon, with 
Branches to the Seven Stars," or " A Perpendicular Tunnel 
to New Zealand," they would come out at a Premium ! and 
were you to address Mr Allan, Messrs Pillans $ Home, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 133 

Robertson, M'Calhm, Doicell, Cleland, Mundell 4' Baird, or 
any of the great sharebrokers of the day, you would find that 
" Moons were rising " — or, to speak more classically, that 
" Lunatics were in great demand." 

Thus, ladies and gentlemen, deprived of my usual resources, 
I may say with Shylock — 

" You take my life, 

When you do take the means wherby I live ; 

You take my Speech when you destroy the jokes 

Wherewith I spoke." 

I have vainly ransacked my worn-out brains for somethiug 
to amuse you, and stand before you like some unfortunate 
Speculator in the Rival Atmospherics — " An exhausted Air 
Pump." I say so literally, for I am in one of the lines my- 
self, but whether the Internal or the External, " The Sub- 
terranean," or " Superterranean," I don't know. When 
Taglioni left us, our " First, Second, and Third Class Carriages" 
became somewhat empty ; and my friend Lloyd — whose extensive 
Railway Transactions will, I am happy to say, soon rank him with 
the Hudsons of the north — advised my eiking out the receipts 
by doing a little in that way myself. I paused, for, like 
Banquo's ghost, " I had no speculation in my eye." But you 
know Lloyd's winning manners ; he prevailed, and, rushing 
into the market, I jobbed away amongst the rest of my fellow 
"Locomotives." Scrip was my omnium, "my dream by 
night, my every thought by day," until, like Macbeth, I 
exclaimed, 

" Is that a Railway that I see before me, 

The Premium towards my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee : — 

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. 

Hast thou then no Provisional Committee — 

Art but a Railway of the mind; a false creation 

Proceeding from the £cr?'p-oppressed brain ? 

I see thee yet, in Shares as palpable 

As the Glenmutchkins — and now with 

Equalising calls for present payment, 

Which was not so before. That's quite another thing" 

But despite these fearful " calls" and " deposits" I persevered; 
dabbled in everything, from " The Grand Mineral Water In- 
ternal Direct" to "The Arthur Seat and Bell- Rock Atmos- 
pheric under-cover Anti-rain " project, with " Side footpaths 
to Inchkeith and the Isle of May" — and am happy to say 
that my efforts, aided by your support, " Time Works Won- 
M 



134: FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

ders," the Viennoise Children, and Mademoiselle Taglioni, 
have realised a profit of four per cent, upon the " Combined 
Lines " — at which I am ready to lease the speculation to the 
Directors of the Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway, should they 
feel inclined to enlarge their sphere of action. As the various 
Companies now terminating themselves in the Nor' Loch have 
not yet purchased the Theatre-Royal, I am enabled to an- 
nounce the opening of that Establishment on Saturday the 
8th of November next, when Miss Cushman, whose perfor- 
mances have excited so much attention and applause in Lon- 
don, will have the honour of making her first appearance before 
you. And now, ladies and gentlemen, repeating my cus- 
tomary, but not less on that account sincere, tribute of thanks 
for the past, allow me, in the language of the day, to wish 
that your shares of domestic and every other happiness may 
daily rise higher and higher, until they attain a premium fully 
equal to your deserts and utmost hopes ; and with that wish, 
I will, until I have the honour of paying my duty to you 
again, most respectfully take my leave. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

May 21, 184G. 

( Theatre-Royal.) 
' Ladies and Gentlemen, — The termination of another 
season demands the customary tribute of our thanks, and 
respectful acknowledgments for the support we have received 
during its continuance. Should the tone of the few words I 
shall intrude upon you this evening appear less buoyant, less 
joyous, perchance, than usual, do not on that account, pray, 
do not, think them less grateful, or mistake them for the 
language of complaint ; for, although our theatrical efforts 
have proved unprofitable, I willingly impute that result more 
to the somewhat rash extent of my engagement than any 
want of support on your part. Having been censured for not 
bringing sufficient novelty before you, I determined to wash 
out that stain this season, regardless of the terms demanded 
of me, and I trust, ladies and gentlemen, you will allow that 
novelty, at least, has not been wanting. I will not weary 
your patience by recapitulating the names, or dwelling on the 
talents of those who have appeared before you during the 



FAKEWELL ADDRESSES. 135 

past campaign. Many have ranked amongst the first of 
their profession, interspersed with others of a lighter texture, 
but still the best we could procure; for the " starring 
system," as it is technically called, is an experiment which, 
once entered into, must be pursued to the end of the season, 
let the tide flow as it list, for good fortune or for bad. It is 
but justice to you, ladies and gentlemen, to state, that the 
receipts of this season have exceeded those of any we have 
known for the last five years ; but the metropolitan magnates 
of our trade have, as usual, come in for the lion's share. 
" The curtain down, they on the profits fall, 
Stretch forth their mighty paws, and pocket all." 
We have all read of " the lion hunting with other beasts ;" 
and if the united strength of many animals could not contend 
with a single monarch of the wood, what could a poor indi- 
vidual brute like myself hope, hunting with a whole congress 
of them. 

That the great change which has taken place in the hours 
and habits of society has proved very detrimental to thea- 
tricals cannot be questioned ; and it is singular, and inte- 
resting to know, that, upwards of seventeen years ago, Sir 
Walter Scott foresaw and warned me of the change, advising 
me not to take the patent for its whole term of twenty-one 
years, but to limit myself to the first ten, and then, if suc- 
cessful, take the chance of a renewal. But I was averse to 
any chance that might separate me from Edinburgh, and, 
begging your pardon for a very homely simile, adventured 
upon " the whole animal." Five years yet remain to me, 
and, if I am permitted to see their termination, I still hope, 
with your aid, to end my professional labours here; for, 
though I will not conceal that I have had very kind and 
liberal offers from London, it would be a bitter struggle for me 
to be compelled to bid you, ladies and gentlemen, finally fare- 
well, and quit a city I have so long looked on as my home. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
May 31, 1847. 
{Theatre- Royal.) 
When last we brought our winter to a close 
A sober sadness murmur'd through our prose; 
And when the curtain on our summer fell, 



136 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

The Play Bills in my absence said, "farewell." 

Dark were our prospects then, subdued our tone, 

" And melancholy marked us for her own." 

Hence some supposed I suWd or lack'd the fire 

Which in more youthful days essayed the lyre. 

Sulks I deny, although I will not swear 

I'm not, like other men, the worse for wear ; 

Tis one-and-forty years since I began 

The acting trade, and that tries any man ; 

While thirty-seven of those forty-one 

Have in your service, gentle masters, run ; 

But brass corrodes, and iron rusts with age ; 

Can then the mimic children of the stage 

Hope to elude the tyrant ? we may writhe 

And struggle but cannot scape the scythe : 

Although 'tis wonderful what renovation 

Is oft the product of your approbation ! 

You frown — the aged actor droops — but when 

Your smiles return " Richard's himself again" 

Applauding hands his former tires renew, 

And, like the veteran that Goldsmith drew, 

He once more, ere his lessening sands be run, 

" Shoulders his crutch, and shows how fields were won" 

So I to-night, emboldened by success, 

And brighter prospects sport a new " address." 

u Errors excepted" our accounts give reason 

To calculate a profit on the season, 

And no mistake, no error of summation, 

No phrenological creation, 

" No coinage of the heat oppressed brain" 

At which the manager may snatch in vain ; 

But a de facto balance, plain and clear, 

And this, I'm sure, you will be glad to hear. 

Yes, friends, I'm certain, from your kind applause, 

You fully share the happiness you cause, 

And tho' my management many blunders show, 

Yet with Jack Falstaff you'll exclaim I know, 

" We're very glad you've got the money tho\" 

One time I own, we thought the die was cast, 

And that this season was indeed our last ; 

For, from their schedule we had little doubt 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 137 

That " the North British" meant to turn us out. 
In Fancy's ear we heard their engines roar 
Where Human Locomotives had before — 
In Fancy's eye we saw the parting day 
Which tore us from our Theatre away, — 
When Lloyd and Howard, every pleasure past, 
Pack'd up their wigs and fondly look'd their last — 
When Glover left these scenes and sought relief 
In all the silent tragedy of grief; 
And Murray, poor Murray, counting all his store, 
Stood bath'd in tears to think he'd make no more. 
But let us hope our anxious fears are vain, 
And that in Shakespeare Square may long remain 
Glover and Lloyd, and all our '• first class train" 
Both male and female, tragic, light, and heavy, 
With General Murray to lead on the bevy, 
To toll of many seasons yet the knell, 
Offer his grateful thanks, and say farewell. 

A SHORT ADDRESS ON THE FAREWELL 

APPEARANCE OF MR MACKAY. 

April 25, 1848. 

( Theatre-Royal. ) 

Mr Murray (in obedience to the unanimous call of the house) 

came forward and said, that he. did not anticipate the honour 

they had conferred upon him, and he appeared before them a 

little shaken by what he had seen and heard. He parted from 

his friend Mr Mackay with great and sincere regret, both as a 

man and as an actor. His admirable performance of Bailie 

Nicol Jarvie was one of the great means of redeeming the 

Theatre-Royal from great distress. At one time it was in a 

bankrupt state, from which it was saved by the production of 

Rob Roy, and they were quite aware how much of its 

success was owing to the splendid exertions of Mr Mackay. 

The success of that opera enabled his sister, Mrs Siddons, again 

to establish the Edinburgh Theatre in its former efficiency. In 

conclusion, he would say of Mr Mackay, that, in the moment of 

his highest prosperity, he had never forgot himself — he had 

never given himself unnecessary airs — and never annoyed him 

with professional pride or vanity. He was always foremost in 

2m 



138 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

the discharge of his duty, which he had done honourably and 
faithfully from the one end of his life to the other. He had 
felt it deeply, and acknowledged it openly ; and while he parted 
with him with great regret, he felt proud of the compliment 
they had so honourably paid him. 



CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
May 18, 1848. 
( Theatre-Royal.') 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — In times like these, when 
" cracked crowns and bloody noses" appear to form the circu- 
lating medium of Europe, and the first question we ask in the 
morning is not " How do you do?" but, "Who has Abdi- 
cated ?" you may easily imagine that 

" Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." 
And when I daily see potentates, of infinitely longer standing and 
greater respectability than myself, accepting the " Chiltern 
Hundreds" and vacating their seats, I own I tremble for my 
dramatic diadem, and lately have seldom entered my theatre 
without the fear of seeing the stage blockaded with barricades, 
and Lloyd heading the insurgents, to the air of " Mourir pour 
la patrie," and demanding the abdication of king Murray the 
last. So catching are these " Liberalities," that I verily be- 
lieve that nothing but the fear of Mr Moxey and the " Special 
Constables" have hitherto restrained my grumblers. Such 
times are, in general, so unfavourable in our trade, as well as 
others, that I have seriously thought of disposing of myself in 
another way, and, therefore, ladies and gentlemen, request that 
you will do me the honour to favour me with your attention 
while I put up, for your kind consideration, a small lot of ma- 
nagerial lumber, which, under present circumstances, is ex- 
tremely anxious to be knocked down to the best bidder, if not 
previously disposed of by private bargain. Oh ! for the ham- 
mer, and the striking eloquence of a Kobins, a Tait, or a Nisbet, 
to do justice to the article now presented to your competition, 
for, though a little the worse for wear, there's something to be 
got out of the fellow yet. What shall I say for him ? — a shil- 
ling — ladies — a shilling — the coat's worth the money, for 
there's no reserve, — the manager is going, like the Ghost of 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 



139 



Hamlet's father, " in his habit as he lived." We grant the 
face might have been better, the figure more fascinating, and 
we own that the head, phrenologically considered, is certainly 
deficient. Hope, with " her eyes so fair, and golden hair," has 
long been warned off the premises. Still the cranium is not 
utterly useless ; there are many little interesting lumps and 
bumps, which give a picturesque variety to the surface, and 
might, in the hands of a skilful auctioneer, be squeezed into 
" Ideality," " Language," and so forth— at least, I'm told 
there's " Caution," "Adhesiveness," and I know there's con- 
siderable " Thickness," and " Great love of approbation." 
Come, gentlemen, give me a bid. Consider the manager's 
situation : he hangs suspended like Mahomed's coffin, between 
the public and the North British, and if one won't walk into 
him, or the other kick him out, what is the poor devil to do, in 
days when thousands are too good to enter a theatre, and those 
who do, seem to prefer amusements in any language except 
their own. 

A stern propriety pervades the land, 

And theatres are voted contraband. 

Play- wrights, the pride and glory of our age, 

Sleep in the closet, driven from the stage, 

While in the London temples of out art, 

"Where once a Kean and Siddons roused the heart, 

Pouring forth Shakespeare's own resistless tides 

Italians warble, and Franconi rides. 

What ! no bidders yet ? then I must e'en buy myself in, once 
more buckle on my managerial armour, and, thanking you 
for the winter, prepare to battle with the summer once again. 
You know that managers invariably make the worst of every- 
thing, but, in a select party like the present, I will candidly 
acknowledge that, all matters considered, we have fared as well 
as most of our neighbours, and better than many of them, for 
the success which beamed on parts of our season more than 
compensated for the reverses which darkened others. The suc- 
cess of the pantomime, the unabated attraction of Miss Faucit, 
aud the triumphant return of Mr and Mrs Kean to the Edin- 
burgh stage, secured a balance in favour, for which we most 
earnestly and cordially thank you. One circumstance alone 
has been a subject of regret — I allude to the retirement of my 
friend Mr Mackay. He was an actor who, in a certain class 
of character, was, and will remain, unequalled for many years 



140 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

while, in private life, his exemplary conduct added lustre to his 
professional career. He has been a great loss to me, and I 
shall ever sincerely regret it. And now, ladies and gentlemen, 
it only remains for me to end this somewhat lengthy address, 
with repeating, not only my thanks as manager for the season, 
but to request your acceptance of them in a more humble ca- 
pacity, for the distinguished honour you have done me by 
the splendid assemblage this evening. I had discontinued these 
annual calls upon your favour, fearful that my long servitude 
had, in some degree, wearied you, but your presence here to- 
night proudly convinces me that your old servant still retains 
your favour. If anything could increase my respect and gra- 
titude towards you, it would be the unfailing kindness you have 
evinced towards me from the morning to the evening of my 
career ; and when that evening deepens into night it must be 
dark as death can make it ere I forget your constant patronage. 
Ladies and gentlemen, until the commencement of our summer 
season, I most respectfully bid you farewell. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October 23, 1848. 

(Adelphi.') 

You must have noticed that when troops are moved, 

Their conduct, if deserving, is approved 

By the authorities, and, ere they go, 

General Sir William " So-and-so " 

Communicates to Colonel " What's-his-narae " 

His approbation, and requests the same 

May be made known to officers and men 

Of the distinguished corps ; and then 

His majesty, the Provost, calls a meeting 

Of the Town Council, and there repeating, 

As usual, all that's been said before, 

They bow, as 'twere the regiment to the door 

With all the honours, musicians playing, 

Drums beating, colours flying, men hurrahing, 

And swearing love and constancy, you'll find 'em, 

To the old tune, "The girls they've left behind them." 

Thus ends their season, and may not we, 

Bending to you, our great authority, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 141 

Our Captain, Colonel, General, Provost, all, — 

May not your " sappers and your miners " call 

For some kind voucher of propriety, 

Attention, discipline, and strict sobriety, 

Ere to our winter quarters hastening back 

We leave our pleasant summer bivouac ? 

We are no " birds of passage," such as sing 

But for a summer's night, and then take wing. 

Not only are we found in winter's frost, 

" Shiver- de-freezing " on our mimic post ; 

But 'neath the fervid dog-star's ray appear, 

Doing the garrison- duty of the year. 

Look at full private Lloyd ! why, not a night 

Passes, but he meets your sight ; 

And, ever various, — now, as Mr Snoddy, 

The organ of the democratic body, 

Now pleading, as the monster Caliban, 

11 The rights of labour and the wrongs of man j" 

Or so excelling in his " Pas de Deux," 

That Webster trembles in his very shoes ; 

And I have heard the fair St Louins own, 

" Othello's occupation is good bye." 

Where all deserve alike, 'tis hard to choose 

What name to cull for record, which refuse ; 
But to the stranger some attention's due, 

You guess I mean Miss Parker. It is true : 

Night after night has she in favour grown 

'Till you have naturalised her. She's your own, 

And you'll admit such girls would find a home 

E'en with "a Queen of France or Pope of Rome." 

I feel I've trespassed, but you'll not deny, 

Ons word to my old valued friend, Mackay, — 

Alas ! I find my versifying weak, 

Most weak indeed, when it essays to speak 

All that I feel towards him : bygone years 

Rush on my memory, and the past appears 

Fresh as the present, for he bore a part 

In scenes for ever graven on my heart. 

My earnest thanks are his — and more to you 

A thousand and a thousand times are due. 

There is a period when the heart may feel, 



H2 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

And deeply, what the tongue cannot reveal ; 

'Tis like the winter tree — the bud is there, 

But needs that kindling spring, and genial air, 

Age cannot know again. — Believe me when I say, 

I feel I owe you " more than all can pay." 

Tho' nine-and-thirty winters now have flown 

Since first I visited the "good old town," 

I sometimes feel as much a boy as when 

I bore the tug of war with younger men : 

A sort of second childhood, I suppose, 

The candle's flare before its final close ; 

And when that close shall come, and I must go, 

Numbered " with things gone by," full well I know 

Some kindly thoughts will on your memories dwell 

Of him who says, most gratefully, " farewell." 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
April 23, 1849. 
( Theatre- Royal. ) 
Ladies and Centlemen, — Your pardon, pray, 
Should maiden fears mar what I have to say, 
For, you'll confess, I'm in a situation 
So novel, it excuses agitation 
In a young, timid thing, but just brought out 
Fresh from Mamma. You ladies have, no doubt, 
Hopped o'er the " Ribbico?^ of your first rout, 
Endured the scrutiny of those male creatures 
On your deportment, dancing, form, and features. 
Poor girls ! condemned to bear this ere we bring 
The wretches to the scratch, I mean the ring. 
Lord Gough may boast his cannon, and all that— 
And they did famously at Goojerat, 
Where " The United Service " gave a ball, 
Pa says, the Sikhs did not approve at all. 
Still, on a bashful gal no fire surpasses 
A battery of beaux and opera glasses. 
To see these horrid monsters in a row, 
With levelled glasses, and stern moustache below ; 
And hear them whisper, " She's in horrid taste," 
" Tom, twig her legs," and, " Demme, what a waist !" 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 143 

The thought of it occasioned such a flurry, 

That nothing but the prayers of Mr Murray 

Could have prevailed upon me to appear, 

And try to wind up matters for the year. 

He should have come himself; I told him so ; 

But still he shook his head, and murmured — " No.'' 

The season has not prospered, yet, to-night 

Your kindness was so great, all looked so bright, 

So gratifying, that he would not taint 

The scene with e'en the shadow of complaint. 

" Then, go," he cried, " and, tho' no speech by rote, 

Trust to the moment, and your petticoat." 

I yielded, for I like the man. Don't you? 

At least, I've often heard it said you do, 

Although you know his fault — incessant grumbling — 

A little Mount Vesuvius, always rumbling ; 

But managers for ever ring the chimes 

On the old theme, " There never were such times;" 

And though with garlands you their temples wreath, 

111 fortune is the atmosphere they breathe. 

As Colman said of Byron, " There appears, 

Through all his poems, private life in tears, 

Seeking from general sympathy relief, 

Making the public his pocket handkerchief." 

So Murray loves to angle for success 

By levying on your pockets " a distress." 

He can't expect good houses now, because 

"The Rate in Aid," " Free Trade," and "Navigation Laws," 

Distract all men, and unanimity 

Is found in this alone — no two agree. 

Railways, those Californias, now, they say, 

Like other " fast " joung gentlemen, don't pay, 

And the Gazettes this contradiction show, 

Trade's at a stand, though all the traders go. 

The only hope of pocketing the guineas 

Is not by spinning, but by singing Jennies. 

Europe, with love of change and fury foaming, 

Has gone astray, and e'en the Pope's been roaming ; 

England is upside down, and there's no doubt 

That Peel will soon turn Ireland inside out. 

But I'm on dangerous topics, so I'll end 



144 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

By once more offering to you, from my friend, 
Thanks and acknowledgments for your support 
Through very troublous, adverse times. In short, 
All a more practised tongue and better head 
Should say to such firm friends imagine said ; 
You can't imagine more than truth would tell, 
So, once more, friends, in Murray's name, farewell ! 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October 21, 1849. 

(Adelphi.) 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — This evening terminates the 
fortieth year I have had the honour and happiness of being in 
your service, and I very gladly seize the opportunity it affords 
of repeating my thanks for many many acts of past kind- 
ness, as also for the support with which you have honoured our 
exertions during the present season, a period so singularly try- 
ing to the resources of the country at large, and, consequently, 
so adverse to all places of mere amusement. Money is as ne- 
cessary an evil to theatres, ladies and gentlemen, as to greater 
states, but from railway depressions, free trade experiments, 
&c, it has become so scarce a commodity of late, that I know 
few of my brother managers who have escaped the fiery ordeal 
of this year unsinged. Some have been more fortunate than 
others, and I proudly acknowledge myself amongst that num- 
ber, for, owing to your kind favour, we have escaped with in- 
finitely less loss than, at one time, was thought possible. 

Theatricals are greatly changed, ladies and gentlemen, 
since I entered upon my present speculation, and, under the 
protection of a patent, and other privileges now swept away, 
made myself responsible for rents and burthens amounting to 
nearly £1700 per annum. 

By many the stage is deemed unfashionable; by more, pro- 
fane. French and Italian seem like to become the mother 
tongue of our amusements, — -while the language of Shakespeare 
is "falling into the yellow leaf," — and we ourselves, are "so 
much altered from our former state," that I fear, in some fu- 
ture Police Act, players will be ranked " with other animals 
and things that may be deemed nuisances and annoyances to 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 145 

the inhabitants in general, and, therefore, be it enacted, if that 
cattle, carts, pigs, players, boats, or any other animals or 
things, be found at large in any street within the limits of this 
act, any officer of police may seize such cattle, carts, pigs, 
players, boats, or any other animals or things, and remove 
them to a place of custody." Thus, ladies and gentlemen, 
though the acts which deemed us " vagrants and sturdy beg- 
gars " have been repealed, we live in bodily fear that the stern 
propriety of the age, so adverse to " cakes and ale," may pro- 
cure fresh enactments, classing us among other nuisances, with 
the unhappy and ill-used pigs, — and that those active and 
meritorious officers, Moxey and Murray, may, banishing pigs 
and players, " sui generis" out of that earthly paradise, the 
4 ' bounds of the police," drive us to wander forth — 
"The world before us 
"Where to choose our place of rest." 

We know where we are, but we know not where we may be. 
I have been an actor four-and-forty years, and have seen the 
drama in its proudest and most unfortunate days. I have seen 
these walls nightly crowded with the wealth, talent, rank, and 
beauty, of this noble city. Have trod these boards when graced 
with the ability of a Siddons, a Kemble, a Kean, an O'Neill, 
Young, Stephens, Braham, Mathews, Johnstone, Wilson, and 
names time will not permit me to enumerate. I have seen 
those boxes honoured with the presence of a Walter Scott, 
Playfair, Dugald Stewart, Mackenzie, Jeffrey, Wilson, — men 
whose genius has cast a splendour even around the honoured 
name of Scotland itself ; and such patronage, not being con- 
fined to Edinburgh, but spreading throughout the country, 
gave birth to the talent which gratefully repaid the smiles 
which fostered it. But dark clouds have followed these 
triumphs, and, in the words of your own beautiful ballad — 

u I've seen the morning with gold the hills adorning, 
And loud tempests storming before the mid- day ; 

I've seen Tweed's silver streams, shining in the sunny beams, 
Grow drumly and dark as he row'd on his way." 

You will readily feel, ladies and gentlemen, that if our 
heartfelt thanks are due to our patrons in seasons of great and 
general success, how much more they are due, and gratefully 
paid, to you and all who have cheered us in the darker periods 
of our history,— friends who, in the dimness of the present, 

N 



146 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 



have not forgotten the splendours of the past, but whose 
smiling patronage has sought to dispel the gloom, and light the 
children of the stage to further improvement and future 
triumphs. The darkest cloud has a silver lining, and is ever 
said to precede the dawn. Then let us look forward to 

" The good time coming." 
The drama may fade, may wither for a time, but it will never 
finally fall ; it is, as Sir Walter Scott has said, " innate in 
the human heart," — and though every theatre in the three 
kingdoms should become ashes, yet, to borrow the splendid lines 
of your own immortal Campbell — 

" Hope, undismayed, would o'er the ruins smile, 
And light her torch at Shakespeare's funeral pile." 

Ladies and gentlemen, I humbly beg your pardon for this 
lengthened expression of my feelings, and, thanking you 
earnestly for your patience, I again gratefully acknowledge 
your favours, and respectfully say — Farewell. 

I purpose leaving town for London to-morrow, where I will 
do all in my poor ability to prove, by my future arrangements, 
that I am not forgetful of the past. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
May 24, 1850. 
( Theatre-Royal. ) 
If not of honest Paul already weary, 
I've just dropped in to pop another query, 
In confidence, respectfully inquiring 
If you believe that Murray means retiring, 
In honest truth, or that he only tries, 
Like other shopkeepers, to raise supplies, 
By feigning this " enormous sacrifice." 
I see no reason for his resignation, 
You've shown no symptom of disapprobation, 
Or voted him unworthy of his station ; 
And though he's old, and has been many years 
Nightly before you, yet he ne'er appears 
Unwelcomed by your smiles and kindly cheers. 
Can he, Othello-like, then bid farewell 
To all his spangled troop, and prompter's bell ; 
The spirit-stirring overture, whose din, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 117 

Led by Mackenzie's potent violin, 
Yields to the drums and trumpet, which begin 
Some tragic tale of horror — some dark scene — 
Where Powrie storms, and emulating Kean 
Seizes Miss Frankland, at whose dread cries 
Brave Wyndham enters, and bold Powrie dies, 
'Midst all the pomp and circumstances of wars, 
Where preconcerted combats jest at scars ? 
The farce succeeds, where Cooper, Emma Nicol, 
Webb, and Miss Parker, all put in the sickle, 
Reaping the genial harvest of applause, 
Which from your willing hands their talent draws. 
.Can Murray think o'er this, and yet lay down 
His tinsel sceptre and Dutch-metal crown ? 
Like Prospero, destroy the magic staff 
Wherein so often he has raised the laugh 
In " William of the Forest," " Lubin Logs," 
" The Tiger," " Mr Tomkins," " Newman Noggs," 
" Simpson," " Rattan," " Bambino," can he too 
To old " Grandfather Whitehead" bid adieu ? 
Will he no more your kindling plaudits seek 
In " Falstaff," " Tony Lumpkin," " Dominique," 
11 Lissardo," " Sir Mark Chase," where one and all, 
With shouts confessed, " 'Twas merry in the Hall!" 
Shouts only equalled by the cheers which ran 
To greet his " Brave Old Country Gentleman ?" 
In private life, what can a fellow do, 
Whose whole career has been so wrapped in you, 
That your approval, and your votive wreaths, 
Have formed the very atmosphere he breathes ? 
I stated all this to him, he but sighed, 
And with lack-lustred visage, thus replied : — 
" A moment comes to every mortal, when 
He must give place to younger, better men, 
And the great secret in the race we run 
Is to discover when we should have done, 
Not vainly clinging to our mimic trade 
Till friends may mourn o'er faculties decayed, 
And sadly viewing, as we 'tempt the scene, 
Merely the shadow of what once had been. 
Like honest Dogberry, I've had my crosses > 



148 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

And both in friends and pockets, heavy losses ; 

Many warm hearts who used my toils to cheer, 

And to advise them, are no longer here ; 

Many distinguished names, which brightly shone 

With generous kindness on my boyhood, gone. 

'Tis time to follow, and prepare for what 

You know, dear Paul, is every creature's lot." 

He paused — but silence oft expresses more 

Than ever oratory hit before ; 

And I retired, for I thought it rude 

Upon such serious feelings to intrude. 

I hear it said, the manager intends 

To-night, in person, to address his friends, 

And as you're all impatient for Mackay, 

I'll take my leave, trusting, you'll pardon Pry. 

For Murray's sake, you like him, so do I, 

And I will say, aye, and maintain it too, 

You can't regard him more than he does you. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

October 12, 1850. 

( Theatre-Royal. ) 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — I gladly appear before you, not 
only to return my thanks for the success which has attended 
the present season, but to offer my grateful acknowledgments 
for the unvarying kindness you have honoured me with through 
the long and somewhat arduous career which now so rapidly 
approaches its termination. Shakespeare says, that time 
gallops with a thief on his road to execution. I am sure he 
does with me, as I reluctantly draw near the moment which is 
to separate me from you ; for when I remember the time I 
first appeared before you, a boy of nineteen, and reflect upon 
the railway speed, the startling, the increasing velocity with 
which succeeding years have flown, and endeavour also to call 
to mind the events which have diversified and crowded them, 
my thoughts become tangled and confused — 

" And long past scenes of joy and pain 
Come so bewildering- o'er my brain " 
that I, like my eloquent friend Sir Harry in " High Life be- 
low Stairs," look back upon the future and anticipate the past, 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 149 

in most admired disorder ; but, however changeful the seasons 
may have been, your kindly feeling towards me has ever been 
the same. "When circumstances placed the management of this 
theatre in my hands, in comparatively the morning of my 
course, your considerate indulgence pardoned and retrieved the 
many mistakes of youth ; my morning brightened into noon, 
and your unwearied smiles still cheered my labours ; noon faded 
into evening, still you were at my side unchanged ; and now 
that evening is darkening into night, and I stand upon the 
threshold of my farewell season, the brilliant scene around me, 
and your kind reception of my humble efforts this evening, 
prove that your old servant still possesses your confidence and 
good opinion. During the one-and-forty years I have already 
passed in your service, your smiles have been many, your 
frowns few — for both of which I thank you ; your smiles 
animated me to redoubled exertions, your frowns, like friendly 
beacons, warned me what to avoid. I have every reason to be 
proud of the names which fostered my early course — I was 
honoured with the regards of a Siddons and a Kemble, and 
more than honoured with the favour of Sir Walter Scott ; but, 
ladies and gentlemen, I am more proud of the audience beiore 
whom my course has run. I am not going to offend your good 
taste by any fulsome compliments, but you must be fully aware 
that the approval of an Edinburgh audience is one among the 
brightest garlands an actor can obtain, especially as you are 
proverbial for not lightly or hastily bestowing favours, as you 
are for not capriciously withdrawing them when once conferred. 
Some two or three-and-thirty years since, when I first tried 
my 'prentice ban' on these addresses, which you have ever so 
good-naturedly welcomed, I delivered one in the character of 
Sergeant Kite, soliciting your aid in a time of great depression. 
The conclusion ran thus : — 

" Cheered by these hopes, your Sergeant keeps the field, 

Though sorely pressed, he yet disdains to yield ; 

As Jaquez says, to play you many parts, 

Attention, ever is his wish to please, 

Till time shall say, ' Old Murray, stand at ease.' " 

Time has kept his word, as he generally does in these matters, 
and I trust I have been found equally faithful in the promised 
attention to the duties of my situation. I must solicit your 
patience a few minutes more, while I repeat my acknowledg- 
ments for the success of this season, which — owing to your 
2n 



150 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

support, the attractions of Mr Aldridge, Mr and Mrs Keeley, 
Miss Isaacs, Mrs Fitzwilliam, and Mr Buckstone ; aided by 
the talent and kind exertions of my regular company, which I 
feel great pleasure in thus publicly acknowledging ; and last, 
not least, my clever friends the monkeys — has been the most 
profitable I have known for many summers. You will smile, 
ladies and gentlemen, when I tell you that my engagement of 
the monkeys was swayed by a remembrance of my earliest 
master, John Kemble. Seeing me depressed one evening by 
the difficulties which then surrounded the Theatre, he kindly 
said, " Pshaw ! Will, don't despond ; something will start up, 
either a great actor, or a learned dog, or a facetious monkey, 
and it's of little consequence which, so long as the public is 
pleased." His words recurred to me when the monkeys were 
proposed and engaged, and as I saw the crowds they attracted, 
I could not help thinking 

" 'Twas the sunset of life gave him mystical lore, 
And coining events cast their monkeys before." 
On Monday, ladies and gentlemen, I purpose leaving for Lon- 
don, in hopes of making such arrangements for my last season 
as may merit the continuation of your favour, and when the final 
moment comes, and my professional place shall know me no more, 
I shall be amply repaid for all my labours, if you now and then 
bestow a thought upon your old and faithful servant, and with 
the madcap Prince of Wales, kindly think 

" You could have better spared a better man." 
Ladies and gentlemen, with grateful feelings for the past, and 
ardent wishes for your continued health and happiness, until 
the 9th of November, I respectfully take my leave. 

COMMENCEMENT OF THE SEASON. 
November 9, 1850. 
( Theatre-Royal.) 
u Pry thee, Mackenzie, your Cremona stop, 
While I solicit custom for the shop — 
I'll be as brief as possible — and then 
Kesume your polkas and quadrilles again. 
I own inward fears my old heart flutters 
While taking, for the last time, down my shutters 
And opening our Mimic Store. I court 
For my concluding winter your support , 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 151 

You'll deem them, per'aps, unnecessary fears 

After a servitude of forty years. 

But there's a saddened feeling few can stifle 

At finally performing e'en a trifle ; 

Then wonder not your manager looks blue ^ 

As he approaches a divorce from you — > 

And let me add, friends, from your pockets too.) 

They say, the income-tax next session ceases, 

I'm sure mine will, when I give up my leases ; 

Losing the power to draw bills each night, 

Which yonr good-nature honours before sight. 

But greater ills, with more portentous gleam, 

Glare o'er my waking thoughts — distract each dream. 

Last night, (assuming a tragic tone), reclining on my truckle 

bed, 
A fearful vision darkened round my head ; 
Methought a sudden burst of war's alarms 
Sounded " To horse !" and summoned me to arms ! 
But ere I could my panoply regain 
Two rival potentates usurped the plain — 
Two Genii of the Ring, ruling the hour, 
Like centaurs of unlimited horse-power. 
11 For England ; ' one, " For France " the other cries, 
" Cooke " and i; Franconi" echoed through the skies ; 
Steed threatened steed, with high and boastful neighing, 
Drums, trumpets, clowns, trombones, together braying, 
Till, midst their nightly struggles, noise, and worry, 
I saw, as 'tween two stools, down go poor Murray. 
When I beheld the little Trojan fall, 
My brains began to wander past recall. 
It seemed " The state of the world was now undone, ,: 
Or else the competition had begun 
In dreaded " Eighteen hundred and fifty-one," 
Where foreign talent all combined to rout us, 
Had taught assembled worlds to do without us, 
Forcing poor u Bull " to shut up shop and roam 
Far o'er Atlantic waves to find a home. 
A bull myself, in dreams I trudged along, 
And sadly joined the emigrating throng; 
Yet feeling, could I once more get before ye, 
Your well-known smiles and plaudits would restore me, 



152 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

Lo ! at those sounds, the vision flies anon — 
Shadows, avaunt ! Murray's awake again. 
Once more in arms, again I dare the field ; 
" Live and let live," the motto of my shield. 
I ask but of your patronage a share, 
There's still enough for all and some to spare ; 
Should I deserve your aid you won't refuse it, 
If not, I shall at least deserve to lose it. 
To win, I'll nail my colours to the mast, 
But should I lose, then make my bow at last, 
Whate'er the present, grateful for the past. 



AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
November 30, 1850. 
renewal of mr banger's engagement. 
( Theatre-Royal. ) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — I solicit your attention for a 
few minutes whilst I announce the re-engagement of Mr 
Ranger for next week, and I gladly take the opportunity of 
publicly thanking that gentleman for so kindly extending his 
assistance, after the disappointments of a fortnight, which, 
owing to the powerful opposition the theatre is now subjected 
to, has been anything but profitable. Still, when I reflect 
upon the great applause with which you constantly honour his 
talented personations, I cannot but indulge the hope that his 
ensuing nights will be more fortunate. If there is any truth 
in the adage that "the darkest hour precedes the dawn," our 
morning of success must be near, and no one will more grate- 
fully welcome its earliest beams than your humble servant. 
They say, 'tis not a wise policy to acknowledge failures, I am 
sure 'tis a more honest one than to boast fictitious successes ; 
and as I feel certain that the Edinburgh audience will not 
suffer the last season of their old servant to end in loss, I shall 
not suffer myself to be dispirited by temporary reverses, but, 
persevering in my efforts, await, patiently and cheerfully, " the 
good time coming." 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 153 



AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
March 10, 1851. 
under the patronage of the grand lodge of scotland. 
( Theatre- Royal,') 
Most worshipful ! — but, ha ! — am I awake ? 
How, Tyler — Warder — hast thou dared to take 
Such freedoms with our ancient, sacred law, 
As hitherward e'en ladies, too, to draw ? 
Hast dared expose our secret mysteries, 
Bribed by the brightness in those radient eyes ? 
Most worshipful ! — I really must protest 
The Tyler's wrong — yet, no — 'tis for the best — 
This meeting's free to all who now attend 
To take a last look of a grateful friend ! 
An open " Lodge " my brothers here convene, 
And bring our sisters, too, to grace the scene. 
For here, in brilliant orders, you reveal 
One secret, which e'en masons can't conceal. 
'Tis this, whate'er we be, without pretence, 
The mason's true sign is — Benevolence. 
A veteran actor, leaving now the ranks 
Where he, it may be, oft hath played queer pranks, 
To you, his chief of patrons, gives his thanks ; 
And, ere his managerial work is o'er, 
Has asked to see his best of friends once more. 
The taper, flickering, to its socket nigh, 
One lustrous flash will sometimes throw on high — 
Its latest effort — such perchance the flame 
Which glows and warms my heart at your acclaim ; 
For though, as brother, I may hope to greet you, 
As manager I never more shall meet you; 
Ne'er tell again how oft masonic aid 
This theatre from heavy loss has stayed — 
When times were dull, and tiny scant receipt 
Toiled vainly the expenditure to meet — 
When each expedient in its turn would fail — 
With heart as heavy as my cheek is pale, 
To you, at last, I bear my woeful tale. 
At once — the Grand Lodge meets — the mandate's given — 
Mason on mason, by their kindness driven, 



154 FAREWELL ADDRESSES, 

Crowd to the rescue, and I'm raised to heaven. 

Thus have we struggled on —now bad — now better — 

(Though ne'er so good as when we get " your letter; 1 ') 

But worn by years, and still the nightly fetter, 

The old man seeks repose— yet in his course, 

He humbly hopes his Theatre is no worse 

Than when he first received it, his chief aim, 

To please the public, and maintain the name 

Of Scotland's Drama — to keep before the eye 

The mighty efforts that should never die 

Of Scott and Shakespeare, and his recompense — 

His best return in every grateful sense 

Is such a scene as this — rank — worth — and beauty — 

It almost makes me think " I've done my duty." 

Yet conscience bids me ask you to be blind 

To failings ; — yes, you will — you are so kind — 

And when, with faltering heart, I speak my last adieu, 

'Twill beat with ceaseless, changeless, gratitude to you. 

AN OCCASIONAL ADDRESS. 
March 15, 1851. 
under the patronage of the judges of the court of 
session, and members of the bar. 
(Theatre-Royal.') 
Ladies and Gentlemen,— Proud as I ever feel of the 
honour of appearing before you, I must own that I am more 
than gratified at your present summons, as it affords me not 
only an opportunity of thanking all who have favoured me 
with their support this evening, but also of offering my most 
sincere and grateful acknowledgments to those distinguished 
personages who have honoured me with their patronage on this 
occasion. It is not often that a man appears before the bar of 
his country with such pleasurable feelings as I do now, but it 
is easier to feel gratitude, than to find words for its adequate 
expression ; for you may conceive how very highly I prize an 
honour which tells me that, during a long and arduous career, 
my conduct has not forfeited the approbation of such a body as 
the Bar of Scotland. I will not detain you, ladies and gentle- 
men, by vainly attempting what I feel myself incapable of. 
Oblige your old servant by imagining what he ought to say on 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 155 

such an occasion, and be assured that no imagination, not even 
yours, could exceed the fervour of the language I would use 
had I power to express the deep and lasting gratitude the 
compliment you have paid me this evening has inspired me 
with. Ladies and gentlemen, I request your pardon for the 
inefficiency of my attempt, and again, most sincerely, and most 
gratefully thanking you, respectfully take my leave. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 

May 28, 1851. 

( Theatre-Royal. ) 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — Shakespeare has been truly 

said to have written for all time, and I believe there are few 

occasions on which a man cannot profitably avail himself of 

the language of that immortal bard. Thus, on the present 

occasion, I shall, slightly varying the text, commence my 

address in the words of Old Adam in " AlS You Like It," 

saying — 

" From nineteen years of age till now, threescore, 

Here lived I, but now live here no more. 

At nineteen years many their fortunes seek, 

But at threescore it is too old a week ; 

Yet fortune cannot recompense me better 

Than to leave honestly, and no man's debtor." 
That recompense your kindness has secured to me. I make 
no claims to merit as an actor or a manager, but I own I am 
proud of the unvarying and inflexible integrity with which 
your support has enabled this establishment to meet its en- 
gagements under the most adverse and trying circumstances ; 
an integrity equalled by few theatres — surpassed by none. 
A somewhat early advertisement, over which I had no control, 
made my proposed retirement from management so long a 
matter of public notoriety, that I fear, like other " coming 
events, it cast its shadows before," and has so frequently 
saddened and tinged the tone of my late addresses, that you 
must have likened me to Prior's thief, who, on his road to the 
gallows, 

" Adjusted his halter, and traversed the cart, 

Full often took leave, yet was loath to depart." 
I own the resemblance — I am extremely loath to say farewell, 
deeply reluctant to part with those who have been for two- 
and-forty years my 

" Very constant and approved good masters." 



156 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

The very walls of this old building add to my regret, arid by 
their " whispers of the past," recall bygone years, when the 
grey-headed gentleman before you was first given, a mere 
stripling, to your notice by a much-loved and respected sister. 
With such remembrances, 

" As o'er the dusky furniture I bend, 
Each chair awakes the feelings of a friend." 

There is not a worn-out buckler behind these old scenes which 
does not recall, as if by instinct, and " instinct is a great 
matter," som* thoughts of honest Jack Falstaff — " Jack to 
you, but Sir John to the rest of the world " — not a red wig 
that does not laugh in my face at the simplicities of " William 
of the Forest," or the mad tricks of that imp of mischief, 
11 Tony Lumpkin " — not a grey hair that does not embody 
some thoughts of " poor old Grandfather Whitehead." The 
very boards beneath me " prate of my whereabouts," and 
speak to me of the years when I trod them in the presence of 
a Siddons, an O'Neill, the Kembles, the Keans, Fawcett, 
Young, Macready, Bannister, Dowton, Johnstone, Emery, 
Liston, Mathews, Terry, Braham, and, though last not least, 
those kindred spirits of song, Miss Stephens and your 
own Wilson, who poured forth the heart-stirring ballads of the 
" Land of the Mountain and the Flood," with all the fire of 
genius and the very soul of melody. With these vivid recol- 
lections, and I trust not faded powers, it has been asked of me 
why 1 retire ? I reply, as I did at the conclusion of last 
winter, your applause has alone given a value to my perfor- 
mances, and I would not linger here till the infirmities of age 
might so diminish my claims to your approbation, that my 
efforts would only " claim respect for what they had been." 
I have struggled thro' six of Shakespeare's " Seven ages " — 
have been the " whining schoolboy " — " the sighing lover " — 
" the bearded soldier " — " the justice," 

" In fair round belly with good capon lined" — 
have pourtrayed "The lean and slippered Pantaloon," but 
would not pain you by realising that " last scene of all," 
the 

" Second childishness, and mere oblivion, 
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything." 

I fear my over tendency to prattle this evening, savours a little 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 157 

too much of the old man already : but I must crave you to 
bear with me a few minutes longer, while I again u traverse 
my cart" and express my great gratification at having my last 
season here aided by the distinguished talents of my kind and 
valued friend Mackay — long may his graphic aud inimitable 
delineations of Scottish character be spared to us. To the 
whole body of my performers I owe my heartfelt thanks for 
their constant kindness and assistance — I shall leave them 
with great regret, and the most ardent wishes for their hap- 
piness and success ; and to every member of thi? establishment, 
high and low, I publicly tender my thanks. To that distin- 
guished master of his art, Mr John Kemble, and his illustrious 
sister, Mrs Siddons, my youth was deeply indebted. My re- 
spectful and grateful veneration for the memory of my patron, 
Sir Walter Scott, is too well known to need repetition. There 
is another person, not so well known to you, ladies and gentle- 
men, but to whose instructions I owe so much, that I should 
be highly ungrateful if, on an occasion like the present, I did 
not express my thanks to my earliest master, Mr Charles 
Farley of London, to whose exquisite taste and great ability in 
the production of spectacle the Theatre-Royal, Covent Gar- 
den, owed much of its prosperity. I am sure it will please Mr 
Farley to find that his favourite pupil gratefully remembers 
and acknowledges his kindness. One name yet lingers on my 
tongue, in any compliment to which I am sure you will most 
cordially join, when I mention that of the late Sir William 
Allan. He honoured me with the most brotherly affection, 
guided me by his counsels, often aided me by his transcendent 
talent, and I own it was his death which decided my resigning 
management. And now, ladies and gentlemen, I have but 
one duty to perform, though how to discharge that duty — the 
expression of the debt of gratitude I owe to you — I know not, 
The unfading popularity you have honoured me with for up- 
wards of forty years has been, in its duration and intensity, 
almost, if not quite unparalleled in theatrical annals. I proudly, 
gratefully acknowledge it, though I feel that I owe it to your 
kindness more than any merit of my own. I boasted at the 
commencement of this address, that I should retire " no man's 
debtor." I spoke hastily, and ask you to excuse me — I must 
to my latest moments remain yours, unless, in mitigation, you 
can think with Milton, that 



158 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

" A grateful mind 
By owing owes not, but still pays— at once 
Indebted and discharged." 

Ladies and gentlemen, if, in the course of my long manage- 
ment of your theatre, I have to any one given offence, I respect- 
fully ask their pardon ; and with the most sincere prayers that 
every blessing and happiness may long be showered upon you 
and yours, your old and faithful servant sighs forth — Farewell. 

CONCLUSION OF THE SEASON. 
mr Murray's final address. 
(Adelphi.) 
Ladies and Gentlemen, — It was within these walls that, on 
the 10th of November 1809, I had the honour of making my 
first appearance before you, and it is within the same walls 
that I again appear before you, endeavouring to express to you 
the deep and grateful sense I entertain of all the kindness, the 
consideration, the forbearance you have evinced towards me, 
during my long and motley course of two-and-forty years, and 
to perform the melancholy duty of saying farewell to those I 
have so much reason to love and to respect. As many may re- 
member, my earliest efforts here were anything but successful, and 
I have great reason to rejoice that they were not. My father 
was an actor of distinguished talent in London, and so great a 
favourite with the public and his professional brethren, that on 
my entrance into the Theatre-Royal, Covent Garden, under the 
auspices of Mr Kemble, I was so petted and favoured, on my 
father's account, that I came before you with all the levity and 
conceit natural to a boy of nineteen. But your frowns, and 
the darkness of my reception here, taught me to know myself, 
and to discover that I was not " the admirable Crichton '' I 
had vainly imagined. With determined industry, and doggedly, 
as Dr Johnson says, I set myself to remedy my defects. You 
for a time, persisted in your disapprobation — I was resolute in 
my efforts to improve ; you hissed — I laboured, until I fairly 
won your smiles, and you began kindly to regard the strippling 
who strove so unremittingly to please you. To be brief, I rose in 
ypur favour. Painful circumstances made me the manager of 
your theatres ; and while, like others in my situation, I could wish 
ae many things which have been done, and have left unat- 



FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 159 

tempted many others I could have wished performed, yet, consider- 
ing the names of the great artists I yearly brought before you, 
the talents of the resident company, the merits of the pieces an- 
nually produced, and the manner in which they were brought 
forward, I do not think the court before which I have the 
honour of pleading will refuse me their verdict of approbation. 
To my successors in the management of the two theatres I 
wish, sincerely wish, every prosperity they can wish themselves. 
They will profit by my blunders ; they are both in the prime 
of life, both of distinguished talent in their profession, both 
highly popular ; and I earnestly desire for them 
" Calm seas, auspicious gales. 
And sail so expeditious, that shall catch 
Their mimic fleets far off" — 

wafting them into the havens of a golden fortune. To my profes - 
sional brethren I feel deeply indebted for their kind and gratifying 
aid on this occasion. To Mr Glover I owe many acts of liberal kind- 
ness, and I feel great pleasure in acknowledging my obliga- 
tions towards him. By Mr Lloyd's kind assistance I am pe- 
culiarly obliged, as it proves the cordial feelings of regard which 
exist between us. I have further to thank him for his great 
courtesy in postponing the opening of the Theatre-Royal until 
after the engagement of the Miss Batemans here. To your 
distinguished favourite, Mr Powrie, I owe many, many thanks. 
But what shall I say to my old, tried, and valued friend, Mr 
Mackay, who, as he once by his talents, saved the Theatre- 
Royal, has this season, by the attraction of his unfading 
abilities, greatly diminished the losses the Crystal Palace had 
entailed upon me — 

" We have clamb the hill thegither, 
And now are toddlin' down " — 

but I earnestly hope that while we remain on the pages of "the 
world's volume," the Bailie and the Major may cling together 
in the firmest bonds of friendship, for the sake of " Auld Lang- 
syne." 

To the performers, orchestra, and servants of this establish- 
ment, I return my best thanks for their constant kindness to 
me, and cannot refrain from expressing the great pride and gra- 
tification I feel at the splendid testimony of their affection and 
regard with which they honoured me this morning ; and also 
offer my grateful acknowledgments to the trustees and share- 



160 FAREWELL ADDRESSES. 

holders of this theatre for their unvarying liberality and atten- 
tion, and I trust they will not think that the reputation of 
the Adelphi has suffered in my hands. 

And now, my kind and liberal patrons, 'tis time for me to 
iurl my professional sails, and say farewell to those to whom 
" All my service 
In every point twice done, and then done double, 
Were poor and single business to contend 
Against the honours deep and broad " 

you've showered on me. Some of my friends have led me to 
hope that rest and retirement may so restore me to my former 
self, that I may occasionally revisit the " glimpses of our 
theatrical moon." Should that hope be denied me, and this, 
indeed, be the last appearance I shall ever have the honour of 
;naking before you, be assured, that though the years of your 
old servant be allowed to " stretch into extremest age," the 
last, the most cherished worldly recollection that trembles on 
his fading memory, will be the evenings he has spent in your 
service, and, above all, that in which he now again thanks the 
brilliant assemblage before him for many, many years of kind- 
ness, and with deep, respectful, and fervent gratitude, bids 
you — Farewell. 



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